An Aquila lost within an Oriental Land of Illusions
by GopnikChen
Summary: In the far future, among the endless chaos of the 42nd millennium, war has raged since the days of yore. In these grim and dour times, a battered collection of survivors flee from an ill-fated Imperial campaign, only to find themselves hauled from their reality to to crash upon the realm of Gensokyo. This stark realm will test oaths and faith as what it bears is alien. Peace.
1. Prologue - Inqusitorial Forward

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Recollection :: ++ /**

**:: Inloading Message Connection Data ::**

**\\\ ++ :: Intended Recipient: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ++ /**

**[[ :: Opening Communication Channel : Acolyte Artaus Transmitting . . . ::]]**

"...Greetings most blessed Inquisitor, after months of collection and vital compiling among hundreds of forgotten librariums of the Cygnet sector, your faithful acolytes have compiled for you the report you most urgently requested. Your request for information on the region of space dubbed the Phantasma Abyss, M'Lord was most strange as few archives exist or are properly maintained in this late hour. ..."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

". . . It has taken you several solar years to compile this data Artaus, whilst I will no doubt express great pleasure in your ruthless diligence, your delays have caused a great stir within the Ordo Minorus. With the most recent revelations by members of my committee as it pertains to our missing Battlegroup, Ordo Chronos has begun probing our investigation, and their intervention in my investigation is something I can ill afford . . ."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic : Acolyte Artaus ::]]**

" . . . Of course my most holy Lord, I would not dare waste your time nor resources on folly, my report is comprehensive and contains dozens of reconstructed events using innumerable recountings and data recordings recovered by the Trader Dynasty of Mithreal. I can safely say that we have successfully compiled what could be considered the quintessential report on the lost Battlegroup Astra Integrum . . ."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" . . . Very well, then let us delve into this archive, the Ordo and myself would be elated to finally close the book on this irksome footnote as it relates to the Phantasma Abyss. Now let us begin, from what you've transmitted, I am to understand the Battlegroup in question was fleeing from the nearby warzone of Ichorous V with a host of greenskins upon their trail? . ."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic : Acolyte Artaus ::]]**

" . . . Indeed M'Lord the most complete image is drawn from the details of several ranking officers and specialists from the combined arms fleet. From what we can piece together, Astra Integrum was comprised of several different Imperium-aligned factions, ranging from House Valenshroud's own Knightly Court, to the Forgeworld of Bavarii and several maniples of their warhost alongside their personal armored core the Bavarii "Iron Hounds".

In addition several detaches from the Ichorous V Planetary Guard came with them, with various elements from the elite tithe Ashari 2nd "Dunebreaker '' Vanguard and Káthodos 495th "Sky Raider" Drop Wings. Which as you know was dispatched to Ichorous V with the intent of breaking the hold upon several Hive-Worlds by vile greenskins that have ravaged and terrorized the surrounding sectors in the centuries prior.

From what the menials report, the Battlegroup gave battle to the massed warband of Orkish invaders but was overwhelmed and collected stragglers and elements from various Imperial elements that remained after it became clear the conflict was to be devastating to Imperial Forces. With what forces they could recover from the doomed system, they set about withdrawing under the orders of Commodore Terval, the ranking officer of the Battlegroup after Admiral Karsis was slain in action. . . "

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" . . . Defeat at the hand of greenskins? Acolyte you must be trying my patience, the Battlegroup of Ad Integrum included elements from some of the finest institutions our blessed Imperium could muster. Shall we not forget, these regiments of the Imperial Guard drawn from worlds who's tithe to the Imperium has been up until this point peerless in their capabilities.

Thusly are you to imply that a vaunted warhost such as this was broken by the likes of mere Greenskins? Your jesting does so wear upon my patience. . . "

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic : Acolyte Artaus ::]]**

" . . .Most holy Inquisitor, I would broker no mockery to the formidable war-host the Imperium did assemble to smite the foes of Man. The preliminary investigations into the fate of the Battlegroup has led us to suspect that there, perhaps, may have been seditious elements that had embedded themselves within the Imperial detachments at the behest of masters of the darkened sort.

Listening post data from the time seems to suggest that there was an unusual stretch of activity in the Phantasma Abyss during the time frame in which the Battlegroup would have been entering and returning along the stellar route that moves through the estranged region of space.

As for the nature of the Orkish incursion that possibly drove away the Battlegroup and gave chase to them, there is no sign. Early reports from the segmentum indicate several disparate war hosts of Greenskins operating under an unusually capable and vile Warboss that had been plaguing the sector prior to their arrival. Early Adaptus Mechanicus reports suggest a ratio of greenskins far higher than even that reported to the units upon their initial dispatch to this sector. It was by the crushing weight of numbers they seem to have driven back our stalwart defenders and given chase to them as they began a disorganized withdrawal.

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" . . . How ill timed, very well then, your report suggested that as the fleet began this poorly organized withdrawal from the doomed sector that they had at least successfully established and completed a transition into the Immaterium. Then if such is the case Acolyte, how did data-servitors carrying all this information end up inside a derelict Cobra Destroyer that was confirmed to have made a transition into the Immaterial with the rest of the withdrawing fleet? I want to know where the rest of my Battlegroup is Acolyte . . . "

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic : Acolyte Artaus ::]]**

" . . . I implore you, for but a few moments more of your strained patience, as survey teams boarded the vessel and found the following data as it was, intact and prepared for dispensation for whom it may concern. As it stands, the augers and data-banks of the Cobra Destroy, codified as the Light of Stahl, was indeed part of the few ships that managed to disengage after the stellar battle that claimed the life of Admiral Karsis at the entrance to the Ichorous V system. The remnant of the fleet made haste to collect and recover groundside elements that were trapped in battle planetside on the sector capital of Ichorous V.

After several stalling actions made by their bedraggled capital ships and destroyer escorts, the fleet made an emergency transition into the Immaterial. The internal ledger for the vessel records them departing with a sizable force of orkish warships riding and pursuing their wake through the Warp.

It was near the mid-way of their journey…. And forgive my lack of grasp Inquisitor, that they were suddenly pulled from their stellar route, their place of arrival is unrecoverable my Lord as Adaptus Mechanicus thralls and Administratum data-menials were unable to point to any solid location within our expanse that these data-points coincide with. From there the Light of Stahl's own data-banks come to an end after the crew abandoned ship in orbit of an unknown world. The data bank only recorded a single emergency jump that hauled the ship back into real-space somewhere within the Phantasma Abyss some considerable time later. . . "

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" . . . How irksome, but you do have confirmation that much of the lost battlegroup was indeed intact when they were forced to make a transition into the material or what it could loosely be called within that twisted mote of reality they had been drawn too?. . ."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic : Acolyte Artaus ::]]**

". . . Indeed M'Lord, we have confirmation that the information as it has been presented to you includes everything we can glean from on the ground details. Several of the regiments kept detailed logs of their time within this anomalous region of space. It is from these logs that were placed seemingly purposefully within the data-banks recovered from the Light of Stahl that we've been able to cobble together a rough time-table and account of what unfolded. Within the realm they refer to as "The Land of Illusions" and from what we've gleaned it is some-sort of half-realm, neither fully within the material nor within the Immaterial. M'Lord, tis an estranged place out of time truly, where the laws of reality have broken down in some regards.

Yet unlike recorded daemon-worlds, this realm did not match any previously catalogued worlds touched by Chaos and it's infectious and twisting nature. This realm may indeed have been some world forged by beings of the Immaterium that sought some sort of order- . . . "

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

". . . We do not have idle time to speculate on the nature of the Immaterial nor the nature of the Arch-Enemy. You would do well to avoid mention of such and the speculation pertaining to such matters, least we draw in the focus of more Ordo's with far more esoteric interest in said manners. I broker little patience for their probings when so much work remains to be done in finding our lost fleet.

Now, this "Land of Illusions", I see you have taken the liberty to translate the local Low Gothic dialect into a more legible form of High Gothic. This name is somewhat cumbersome to speak aloud, what in their tongue, did the reports refer to the land as Acolyte? . . ."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic : Acolyte Artaus ::]]**

" . . . I shall heed to your infinite wisdom M'Lord, I do beg your pardon for such errant speculation staining our communication's link. Indeed, I had taken the opportunity to translate the text into something more manageable for High Gothic speakers, when spoken in Low Gothic it composed the word 'Gensokyo', at least in the native dialect."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" . . . Gensokyo? Feh, a cumbersome word as well, spoken by savages no doubt. Very well Artaus, let me see what sources we have at our disposal for recollection, make certain to include what you can in this briefing so that I can relay this to my committee most effectively. Now, I want to start with the journals from a source I recognize.

This one, here from a 1st Lieutenant Tomas Foley, of the"Sky-Raiders" Drop Troop. I am familiar with the feats of this Imperial Guard regiment, as I've seen several after-action reports from warzones they've participated within. If I recall correctly they possess, a fairly well decorated unit of honor-bound Stormtroopers with a suitably intense loathing and hatred for the Greenskin. I am to understand that my elected account, being it is one of many, is one of the more grounded of the entries. Or are all of the presented archives and notes going to be just as fantastic and difficult to explain? . . ."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic : Acolyte Artaus ::]]**

" . . . Most noble Lord, if I were able to make these clear and grounded as the dawn, I would have. Unfortunately the scenario we find ourselves in, lacks just that. Clarity in any true capacity as we have been forced to cobble this together the best we can, shall I begin relaying the data-entry to you so that you may intake it's contents at your leisure, M'Lord? . . ."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" . . . Indeed, begin the inload. Let us see what we can glean from these entries, hopefully delving into the depth of this enigma will shed some light on the state of the Battlegroup and possible whereabouts as to it's final location.

You may begin transmitting at once Artaus . . . [***Muffled***] Veritus, get me a glass of amasec, I feel as if I will need such for this wordy catalogue of information and it's entire depth."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic : Acolyte Artaus ::]]**

" . . . But of course M'Lord as you will. Blessed be Him on Earth. May he elucidate the fate of the souls of our brothers and sisters at arms that were lost among the Phantasma Abyss. May His justice account in all things.

**[[ :: Vox Communication; Terminated ::]**

**[[ :: Beginning Data In-load from Remote Source ::]**

**\\\ ++ . . . ++ /**

**\\\ ++ ::Addendum to Drafted Archive :: ++ /**

"These are the after-action and recovered data-logs from various sources attached to the doomed Battlegroup Astra Intergum that vanished along routes that travel through the condemned sector known as the Phantasma Abyss upon some shifting realm aether realm known as Gensokyo.

The following stories and accounts are a record of the officers and enlisted that served upon that world, how this tale will end, only further study will reveal..

**[++ :: Benediction of the Day :: ++ ]]**

". . . Blessed be those that tread the lightened path, for within the dark does treason grow . . ."


	2. Chapter 1 - Calm before the storm

**\\\ ++ :: Beginning Scene Reconstruction :: ++ /**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lt. Tomas Foley :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Playback :: ++ /**

"Any dropships in the vicinity of Sigma Lance's crash site?"

"Negative, Sigma's Valkyrie rolled hard, No grav-chutes, they are in the Emperor's care now."

_They weren't dead_. _Not yet. _The words rattle around Tomas' head as he shook himself awake, it wasn't going to end like this. He could hear muffled groans around him, he wasn't alone, he couldn't be alone.

The scene was bleary, and jittered as he remained locked within the crash harness upside down in the overturned Valkyrie, his hands fumbling with the emergency release as thick rivulets of hot crimson ran down into his eyes, stinging as he fought to free himself.

With strained effort he tossed off the harness and felt his vision grey, the freezing cold deck racing up to meet him as he fell from the lock-bars onto the deck below. Fighting back the growing greying of his vision, he reached out grabbing hold of his las-rifle, he had to organize his men.

_It's a standard drop, sector nobility and senior officers need extraction, it's an in and out. No heroics._

The briefings words rattled about within the confines of his mind as he hauled himself free from the smoldering and twisted remains of the Valkyrie dropship.

The air was tinged with the stomach churning scent of ionized air, from the relentless fire of superheated las-bolts, mixing disgustingly with the acrid and choking scent of crude gunsmoke. Far before him in the vast and fog choked distance, crimson lances of light danced between a seething tide of green hued flesh. A living sea of rancid oil and fetid leather that fought and made war upon isolated pockets of soldiers much like himself, striving like a stone upon which the sea did break.

Before him lay a canvas of mud and fire set before the backdrop of the hive-city, a burning artificial mountain of plasteel and ferrocrete, before it did swirling shadows move and roil in a living sea. These countless crude figures of greenskin barbaric savagery swarmed forth like a shrieking, seething tide as they raced towards the shattered wreck of the dropship.

_Secure the dropsite, evacuate the command staff and high value targets. _

Tomas gritted his teeth at the wordless recall, snapped him back into focus. With instinct at work, he levels the hot-shot lasrifle and fires into the nearest screaming brute, the heat from the las-beam blinding him for but a fraction of a second. The bolt energy's power casting the axe wielding greenskin back down the mound of debris and mud it had struggled to climb.

As he blinks away the after-image of the shot, the billowing of distant movement catches his eye. Far off in the distance, amid the sea of green, vast plumes of crimson smoke lay rolling across the field, amid it several battered Valkyries and their teams waged a losing fight against the surging tide of green bodies racing to meet them.

_The dropsite,we are off our mark, the mission it was…_

"... Fire-Team Aurix, senior staff and House Lords are requesting extraction, we can't spare anyone else with the loss of _Indomitable _and her troop complement_._ Their extraction site is near Sigma's dropsite, can you confirm Sigma lancer is on station to secure the area? …"

"Negative, Sigma's Valkyrie went down several kilometers short of the site."

Tomas sharply moves his hand to the side of his helm, cueing up his vox-bead as he speaks with a hoarse and ragged tone.

"Negative! Sigma lance is still operational; we are in range of the dropsite. We can make it there-"

The words died in his throat as a sharp call of alarm at his back snapped his attention round. His head turns, eyes narrowed as he spies several of his drop-troopers clambering from the rear of the damaged Valkyrie, hauling wounded with them. However his senior Sgt. calls out to him, indicating to a nearby Greenskin that had managed to crest the embankment and cover the debris provided.

Sharply thumbing the selector for automatic fire, Tomas swings the barrel of his hot-shot lasgun towards the hulking, crudely armored greenskin, who was in turn leveling a cobbled together auto-gun squarely at him.

Foley felt the heat as the lasgun shrieks to life, sending forth a torrent of searing bolts of energy, just as he spies the Orks weapon belching forth a plume of black smoke. The hailstorm of crimson bolts found their mark and hew through the creature and kicked it back and away over the embankment.

However, the spiraling shot of steel spirals in the space between them, Foley uncomfortably able to make out the pitted and rusted steel that composed the bullets jacket, as it races forth towards him.

The thunderous crack of pain ripples through the right side of his face, as it feels as if he is picked from his feet by his head and crushed down firmly onto the stone and twisted steel beneath him. His world is ripped from him as he is left falling in the inky pit of unconsciousness.

_We were so close, and yet …_

Tomas felt the world ebb back to him, as he felt a sharp pin-prick on his temple. The sudden flick of pain was just as swiftly replaced with a cooling and dulling sensation that sapped the pain from his face as he once more opened his eyes.

Upon a heavy crate he found himself sitting, staring at the chipped and damaged side of a Valkyrie dropship nose, gone was the roar of crude ballistic firearms and the hiss of las-rifle replies replaced instead with the dull ambiance of the hanger.

Inwardly he wanted to take stock of what was around him, yet as his vision was returning to him a twinge caused him to wince once more as pressure made itself known. Moving round his head was a blur of white padding winding its way to find its place upon his temple he casts an unamused glance towards the medic tending to his wound.

"Throne, I am not trying to get a new helmet made out of gauze, you do know that right Muldoon?"

The medic freezes as Tomas throws a sideways look to them, only to immediately regret his words, forcing him to bite his tongue. The medic in question was not Muldoon, nor was he greeted by the normally sardonic and gaunt features of his unit's medicae. Instead, knelt beside him was a medical officer from another regiment, looking on with some measure of worry and concern.

The young lass adjusts the heavy face wrap she wore atop the heavy deep tan carapace plate, pulling down her face cover to reveal her deeply tanned flesh, and scarred feminine face.

"Ah, sorry Lieutenant, I am not Specialist Muldoon. Your medicae did not make it off world, I was sent to tend your injuries, I am Specialist Zeineb from the Dune-Breakers. "

Tomas glances away, trying not to show the fact he had been caught up replaying the last battle over in his head. Inwardly he felt a pang of shame for the slip up of having referred to the outsider by the name of his friend that had fallen on Ichorus V.

"Ah, my apologies Ma'am, just caught me unaware was all. I was just trying to figure out what sorta weapons made the damage here on the Valkyrie's nose. Old girl had been through alot."

Tomas indicates to the battered and pitted nose of the dropship, trying rapidly to shift the conversation. All while Zeineb gives him an uneasy look, her hands now returning to bandaging his head. She'd speak up after a few moments and glance towards the ship's nose.

"Mhmm, I think you and the Valkyrie have something in common there. I've never seen a helmet catch a slug at such close range. You're lucky and blessed by Him on Earth to have escaped with only the glancing shot it gave you. Seems you and your men dropped square into one of the fiercer zones of fighting."

Tomas merely responds with a shrug of his shoulders, whilst the medic does her work bandaging his head.

"Straight into hell it seems, such is the luck of a drop-regiment. Tell me, your Commissar-Captain, was she able to extract your regiments Officers from the Hive? Or is your regiment in a similar sort of shape as ours?"

Zeineb pauses her tending, moving to anchor down her gauze work, a sight sigh escaping her as she steps back to inspect her handiwork.

"No, from what I understand, Colonel Saffia wasn't able to be located, thus forcing us to pull off-world with what we could. We had to leave some elements of our motorized coven down on Ichorous. Word from command is that we are going to be forced into mix regiment fireteams now. Not that it's strange for you, didn't you escape planetside with a mixed unit?"

Feeling the medic complete her work, Tomas idly rubs the side of his head, the bandages overlaying the grazing hit he'd taken.

"Yeah, most of my team went down with the Valkyrie and the fight to the evac site. When we boarded the Valkyrie, we had gained a few others from various survivor holdouts. I have got to head bridge-side and find Major Bruma, more than likely he will want to hand over new squad roosters before we transition back to real-space."

Zeineb pauses as she moves to pack up her medical kit, glancing off towards a milling squad of the dune-worlders own kin, their own number patched up sorely as they rapidly work keen their blades. She raises a finger and indicates to the Lieutenant as he makes ready to depart for the bridge.

"Oh! Lieutenant, one more thing. There was a strange figure making the rounds sometime earlier looking for you. Claimed to be an Imperial noble from the Hive, she was crediting her rescue to you and your team. Do you have any recall of such or shall I send an aid to usher her off?"

Tomas is given pause, his mind rolling back to the hazy blur of the battle at the foot of the Hive Primus, vaguely interspersed in the clash of bayonet, axe and lasrifle he could see flashes of color as countless throngs were herded into the squat form of landers and merchant ships that braved the fire to evacuate the survivors planetside. Faintly he does recall a particular noble and her retinue they had extracted, strange lot certainly their attire and air didn't truly match that of the other nobles they ushered into the transports..

_A woman clad in lavender_ …

"I … might recall something of that matter, our extraction was messy, we had a lot of foot traffic through the extraction site. It all sort of blurs together and the details are muddy after the shot to the helmet. It's entirely possible, if I see her I'll make sure to wave her over. Thank you specialist, be there anything else?"

Zeineb gives a shake of her head before she departs with a few cordial words of encouragement, heading back towards her unit as she works to patch up some of the more minor injuries among her kin.

Tomas merely gathers to him the equipment of his kit, thumbing on his data-slate as he makes his way from the cloistered corner of the hanger. His course led him winding between dozens of the tightly packed and squat forms of Valkyrie dropships as they lay in haphazardous patterns, packed in like grox in a pen.

His pathway took him along several of the under work Valkyries, several dozen men clad in matte crimson carapace plate worked tirelessly to re-arm their unit and swap their damaged gear for that of restored or at least patchwork replacements. The nearest figure catches Tomas's eye as he makes his way onward, it was the youngest of his unit.

Trooper Albert sat unmoving against a heavy stack of boxes, thumbing over his lasrifles selector switch as he almost robotically moved to cycle the energy cell clip from the weapon over and over in faux remedial drills. The younger man's glassy eyed stare at the battered deck plate giving him a sense of forlorn despair.

The Lieutenant reacts from the gut whilst he thumbs off his data-slate, moving to squat down beside the younger drop-trooper, slapping a hand on his carapace shoulder guard to jostle him back to the world.

"Hey, Albert, you still with me mate? I think your las-rifle is working just fine there. You good to go?"

The younger trooper is jostled and flinches at the impact, shaking his head as his focus returns to him, his thumb pausing their perpetual cycling of cells as he turns to face Tomas with a somewhat lost look upon his youthful face.

"H-Huh? Sir? I… I was caught up in something. Sorry Lieutenant. I am up for whatever command has for us."

Tomas works his jaw idly, nodding along a quick glance around him at least letting him know the battered drop-trooper was at least completing his pre-drop prep despite shock that had set upon him.

"Good man, I want to make something clear to you though. From what we can glean, we are going to end up planetside or in boarding actions once we drop back into real-space. I want you to head over to the Dune-breaker Blade Coven there and find out what they need to get operational again."

The younger man's face hardens as he stares past Tomas, his lips pursed as he stares at the dune-worlder as they go about preparing their kits and moving cargo at a Tech-Priests request. His words are curt, laden with venom as he continues his gaze.

"The feral dune worlders Lieutenant? Frackin bastards… if they had held their positions we wouldn't have missed our drop."

Tomas gave the younger trooper a stern look, his grip tightening on the younger trooper's shoulder guard as he raised a finger in warning.

"Don't start it, we all know what went wrong down there. This isn't the time to start pointing fingers and blaming. Don't let your hatred for the greenskins bleed over to your fellow soldier, understood? Save that rage and use it where the Emperor needs it."

The younger trooper shudders giving his acknowledgement, as he moved to sit himself upright properly, sliding in energy shells into the en-bloc clip their las-rifles fed from.

"O-Of course sir, I will make sure to … speak with Sargeant Mahali of the blade breaker coven here once I finish reloading my clips. Sorry sir."

Satisfied with the answer, Tomas stands up once more, indicating his intent to leave before slipping away. Inwardly he felt the same twinge of resentment well up within him for the other regiments that had travelled along with them on this botch push to save the Ichorous sector from oblivion. For truly had the Asharii Dunebreakers and Balvarian Iron Hounds departed the battlefield in pursuit of their own regiments personal goals and quests for valor. This left a simmering mote of ire to roil in his gut.

_If they hadn't quit the field so soon, we could have pulled more of our own troopers from their posts and we wouldn't be in this short handed mess._

His eyes glanced downward once more to his dataslate as he started to read over the casualty statistics and the remaining unit strengths they were presented with. The reports were grim, the Kathados Sky-Raiders, his own regiment had been badly mauled by bad drop-zone information leaving them to drop directly into heavy enemy formations and air defense unsupported.

His path wove him finally past the angular and squat forms of the Valkyries his regiment utilized into the section of the hanger now packed, side to side by hulking and bulky formed Leman Russ tanks. Side by side they all sat, some in horrific states of mangled repair as their regimental unit worked tirelessly to try and salvage what parts they could with the assistance of a sizable multitude of crimson robed Tech-Priest Enginseers.

Tomas thumbs to their reports as he passes by the predominantly female tanker crews racing to and fro to haul in spare parts and muntion, checking over their casualty reports as he makes his way towards the bridge.

The Balvarian Iron Hounds were just as mauled, from what he could glean from their after-action reports. Despite hailing from the same frozen Forgeworld, their Ad-Mech Overseers had contentedly thrown the Iron Hound armored regiment against a sizable host of looted ork armor and left them without support only to sustain horrific losses to buy time for the withdrawal of Skitarii and Mechanicus aligned elements.

Though it was clear Asharii Dune-breakers had fared the worst in the fighting. Having abandoned their pre-planned defensive positions, the feral worlders far too fond of chain blades and storm-shields had lost a large portion of their host in the vainglorious pursuit of claiming the Ork warlord's head to satisfy their lust for revenge. Their casualty reports were fairly appalling as they had remained behind when the planet-wide withdrawal was called in a measure to redeem their dereliction of duty. In truth it was them which allowed ork armor to find a comfortable place to wait till the Sky Raiders own Valkyries made planetfall.

By his estimates, the three regiments were far below strength, leaving them woefully underprepared to handle the impending conflict with any sizable force once they returned to real space. Hard times for them all it seemed.

Finally arriving at the heavy steel doorway, the heavy doorways hiss draws the focus of the distracted Lieutenant upward from his data-slate as he takes stock of the corridor's state. His pathway down the corridor towards the bridge was unremarkable surprisingly enough, the few figures that moved past him did so with fervent speed as they raced to accomplish duties from their superiors.

However, moving towards him were a pair of figures, two women of more youthful age that seemed to focus on Foley as the door slid open. The pair would gravitate towards Foley, slowly maneuvering themselves alongside the distracted officer. The nearest of the pair, was garbed in a vibrant violet dress, ruffled and trimmed white, with a fairly sizable ruffled mob cap to adorn the long golden locks of hair that trailed down about her. Her face veiled behind a paper fan, her dull amber eyes watching him intently as she drew closer casually spinning a fairly large parasol in her free hand.

Moving in perfect tow with the billowing dressed woman, was her compatriot or bodyguard of sorts. Whilst garbed in a fairly close fitting body glove, she was clad in some measure of armored void suit, her frame concealed save for her face and head. Tall and imposing the lass bore a sharp and keen edge to her features, an even keener intellect hidden behind her golden eyes. Her hair cut above her shoulders, her dull blond locks bobbing as she keenly kept her gaze and serious expression locked upon Tomas.

The pair draw near the hapless officer, as the woman bearing the fan politely inclines her head cordially in his direction, spinning her parasol idly in her grip as she speaks up with a smooth and coy tone.

"Ah! There you are Lieutenant Foley, I must say I it is only fitting to properly thank you for you and your companions timely assistance back on Ichorous, t'was a dreadful experience in every sense of the word."

Tomas gaze moves between the pair, whilst the noblewoman seemed cordial if not overly gracious, his gaze warily fell upon her escort, the stoic face and expression written on her set wrong with him. He does however provide a tight lipped smile to the noble, inclining his helm as he toggles off his dataslate.

"But of course Ma'am, you must be the noble that was looking for me, I uh, must say it was an honor to be able to render assistance to you and your House. Though I fear the excitement of the extraction site has left me less than able to properly recall our previous encounter, I broker no disrespect... Lady?"

The noble in question merely gives a mellifluous laugh, as she bows her head in acknowledgement, indicating between herself and her escort with a tilt of her parasol.

"Ah! Fret not Lieutenant, you and your friends managed to save I and my companion here back on Ichorous from those green-skin brutes. I merely wished to repay your kindness by providing some curious tidbits of information I uncovered recently. As for my title? You may address me as Yukari Yakumo. Strange name no doubt, you will find my considerable holdings far from this place and stellar cluster."

Tomas nods slowly, his pace towards the bridge even, yet no matter how steady he remained in his course he realized fully this noble would not broker any rebuffing of her inquiries till they were satisfied. Thus he comes to a halt, inwardly steeling himself for the droll of speaking with an aristocrat, before turning cordially with an indication to continue.

"By all means Lady Yakumo, as a humble servant of the Golden Throne, I will gladly hear out whatever it may be you need, though I will stress I am currently on duty and due to the urgency of our impending transition to real-space, I may not be able to properly route the information you provide me in a timely manner."

Yukari merely inclines her head, tutting away the idea as she gestures towards the bridge with a bob of her head.

"Oh, but of course Lieutenant, I mean not to ensnare you unneededly. What I wished to inform you of some curious information I managed to dig up whilst in the Hive itself and those that dwell within it. I had hoped such would grant you and your officers some insight into upcoming events, so that preparations could be made for such."

The statement truly did catch Tomas off guard, as he glances between the pair with a furrowed brow, he crosses his arms and indicates curtly.

"Oh? Well if you have vital information, I'd be remiss not to ask what it was you were harboring. Was it perhaps something pertaining to our impending naval action? We have taken proper precautions in the event we do not manage to transition smoothly into real-space"

Yukari shakes her head, indicating for Foley to lean in a hair closer, as she lowers her voice to a hushed tone

"Nay Nay, nothing like that, more so a warning for what is to come. For as it stands, you and your fellow soldiers have been swept up into something far beyond what you've trained for. As such, I wished to lay bare for you my insight into various individuals that compose the ship's menials and their ill-intentioned plans for you and your friends. For you see, our venerable vessel's transition into real-space will be unlike that you nor anyone aboard has ever experienced, I have foreseen such."

A twinge of cold ice floods his veins as Tomas shoots the lass a suspicious look, his own tone lowering to match hers as several menial men meander by with heavy tomes.

"What… an ominous statement Ma'am. And by what means did you manage to uncover this strange revelation?"

Yukari merely bats her eyes at him, the gesture falls short leaving that frigid chill growing in his chest, as she continues.

"Call it personal intuition, the vessel will most certainly suffer some measure of catastrophic failure conducted no less by those aboard her now. The individuals intending to enact this are far more malign and corrupting than would initially appear from first glance. If they manage to complete their task aboard this ship, I will be forced to take drastic measures to prevent the loss of this vessel and her trailing fleet as a whole, I would much prefer if I was not forced to, hence why I inform you now of such a possibility."

The baffled Lieutenant begins to open his mouth to try and formulate some measure of a reply, before Yukari interjects once more.

"But what of our destination, if this seditious plan comes to fruition, aye? Let us just say it will be a realm over which I steward. One with the keen habit for collecting things forgotten or lost to time. Though I hope such does not come to pass, for within my realm there are those that would seek to use you to their ends. Do try and do your best to prevent such a fate!"

_Why does it feel like she has foreseen something terrible for us ..._

Tomas motions to her placatingly as he casts his gaze at her stoic and unmoving companion, trying to glean any information, but she remains as opaque as ever.

"Ah, alright Ma'am, let me for a moment presume that I believe what you're telling me here. That by some means in which you won't disclose, you have information pertaining to some seditious elements within the crew, and they intend to do _something _that would impede our transition back to real-space. As for all this talk of arriving at some distant realm over which you rule, Well I am certain you will have to take such up with Him on Earth. For none but Him are able to divert an entire battlegroup, or well maybe the orders of Segmentum Command could as well."

Yukari shakes her head, waving her fan before him as she indicated to him, tapping his carapace's chest plate with the edge of her fan.

"Nay, not in the slightest, I don't foresee this being much of an issue with your Immortal Master on Terra, as our long standing compact is as steadfast as ever. Your story is just unfolding truthfully, and I eagerly await to see what paths you take and what the future holds for us."

Yukari pauses as she snaps her paper fan closed, a sly grin written across her face, as she continues.

" But I digress, as a reward for risking your mortal life to save my own, I will provide you the boon of my dear servant Ran here, by transferring her into your service. Her presence will allow us to continue this conversation at a later date. As I must soon retire for the time being, much ground work is left to be done."

Foley stares dumbfoundedly at Yukari and then at her companion Ran, who merely has bowed her head in response to her master's orders. Tomas raises his hands trying to brush off the deadweight he suspects a private guard will provide to his team in the coming days.

"Ah, that will not be necessary, I can assure you of such. Truthfully I am uncertain and uneasy of all this talk of fated encounters and grander schemes. I am to assume that the stresses of combat have fatigued you unduly, I will route a medical officer to your suite. More importantly, what in His name did you mean by 'old compacts' in relation to Him on Earth, your sounding ever more mad by the moment."

Yukari merely shakes her head, providing a humorous chuckle to proceed her response, dismissing his trailing statement.

"Nay, I shan't be needing any such treatment, for I am firmly about my senses. Before you can contest my recommendation as well, I have already spoken to Major Bruma, and he has approved this transfer. I do hope you will take good care of Ran here, she will serve you well."

_No, there is no way in hell that I am going to get saddled with a high-born's servant playing soldier._

Tomas flicks his eyes down to his slate, awakening it from it's slumber as he rapidly moves across his received orders. He feels his eye twitch when he spies that, indeed, Major Bruma had sent him a message confirming the transfer, effective immediately.

"How in the name of Terra itself did you manage to convince Major Bruma of this, in addition what about those seditious-"

As he glanced upward, he'd notice he was standing alone with the stoic Ran, further up the corridor, he spied the violet dress fluttering as Yukari made her way away from the scene. With a graceful wave of her fan she'd bid him farewell.

"Fear not Lieutenant Foley, I have tilted the balance and stacked the deck in your favor. I will be watching, do try your best, aye?"

Foley moves a few paces down the corridor, hand raised and calling out, only to watch as the eccentric woman slips away down one of the side passages. He is left alone, a short distance from the bridge's blast-doors, dumped with a damn servant soldier in his lap.

_Just one rolling storm after another, I have to speak to the Major at once, this is a mistake._

Out of the corner of his eye, he could feel the gold eyes of Ran burning a hole in the side of his head. He clears his throat and turns to her, only to spy her bow deeply, tone firm and instant.

"I entrust myself to your care, your word will be that of my Master."

"Alright, take it easy there, I'll speak with the Major when we get to the bridge about this. As for you? Eh, I guess you can make yourself useful and get us a cup of recaff, aye? Let's try to keep your Master's whole foresight nonsense to a minimum as well, if we go yelling about it to the officers, we surely will end up flogged and in the brig."

Ran nods sternly, indicating for him to lead the way as she finally speaks, a soft and concise voice that conveyed what he assumed was equal displeasure at this turn of events.

"Of course, if that is what you will. Whilst I find our current arrangements less than satisfying, if such is my Master's instruction I always see it through. In our case, if that includes serving you, then it shall be done. Though I suspect this arrangement will be temporary, much to our mutual relief no doubt. We shall part ways soon enough."

Tomas nods his head along with the sentiment, despite being saddled with her, at least the woman had her senses about her.

"Mhmmm, good answer as I'll give you that. Come, then let us head on in. The Major will be expecting us and hopefully, we can get our final orders and thus get ourselves squared away."

With a mutual nod, the heavy bulkhead starts to cycle, jets of steam roiling from the heavy machinery as the titanic portal is rolled away, the duo moving within post haste as the muttered chatter from the officers issues from beyond the doors threshold.


	3. Chapter 2 - Ships in a Bottle

**[ \\\ ++ :: Beginning Scene Reconstruction :: ++ / ]**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lt. Tomas Foley :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Playback :: ++ /**

As the heavy blast plating of the door grinds and sparks before the duo, they are finally treated to their first sight of the warship's bridge. Silhouetted by the stark and pale white light at their back, the duo pass into the darkened chamber. The bridge bathed in a deep static laced shimmering green from stacked banks of computing-cogitators clicking and whirring with an unmitigated torrent of data across their many glowing screens.

Hurried forms of deck-serfs race back and forth, between the various duty stations, some carrying heavy stacks of data-slates whilst others raced to deliver status reports to their deck officer. This presented a difficult foot path to navigate as Tomas and Ran made their way towards the center of the chamber, trying not to be swept away by the living tide.

After some considerable effort and fleet footwork, the pair manage to chart a path to the center of the sizable command station. Towering above the rest of the chamber and it's stacked cogitators, loomed a orante and aging throne bound by heavy cables and covered in a flurry of inbuilt screens. Before this grand throne, lay a vast table, light from within that projected vast hololithic images into the air before the throne, many figures moving and bustling around its edges.

One among these was the tall and armored form of Major Bruma, upon catching sight of his superior, Tomas reaches forth to bring Ran to a halt, nodding his head to the distant side passage.

"Mhmm, no real point in getting you involved in the briefing. You head over there and grab a recaff for me and one for yourself. I'll talk to the Major after their briefing. See if we can't sort this mess out and get you back to your Master and relay what we can from your Masters less than convincing warnings."

Ran nods curtly, inclining her head as she moves to take her leave, her parting words a simple affirmation. The sense he got from her was that she was fully onboard with the idea of bringing their little venture together to a close; as swiftly as possible.

Tomas takes his place alongside Major Bruma, who greets his arrival with his own acknowledgement, his gaze returning to the holo-display. The Lieutenant is given pause as the aging black coat clad form of Lord Commissar Bulgraff leaned into the light of the display, his grizzled and haggard voice continuing his briefing.

"... Now from what initial astropath reports suggest, our exit point should drop us squarely on the outer edge of the Hydrix sector. Whilst the sector lacks any real Imperial presence, there is a world we can disembark upon. The plan is simple, as Commodore Terval has mentioned, we make our transition and leave the fleet to stage a stalling action against the Greenskins. All the while, we get our ground forces planetside, cast off a hymnal to sector command and pray for a relief force from the nearby sectors garrison."

Casting his gaze around the room at the faces arrayed before him, he watches as the darkness shrouded figures clearly deliberated and mulled over the proposition, another voice breaks the silence. The sight of Commissar-Captain Jalah gives the Lieutenant a slight twinge of his brow, knowing all too well of her heady and glory seeking tendencies from their time on Ichorous V. The Commissar-Captain speaks up, somewhat perturbed, the dull tan hues of her fatigues mixing strangely with the green hues from the glowing hololiths display.

"I do not endorse this action, we are leaving the battlegroup to die in orbit, considering what the cogitators have computed is riding in our wake, we are bringing an entire war-host down squarely upon us. There must be a better way, what about boarding actions? Can we not strike them and cut them down in the void?"

The sharp hiss of pistons and clanking of steel, draws Tomas' focus sideways to spy the source of the rumbling noise. An uneasy churn of his gut billowed forth as one of the towering shadows moved into view, a crimson robed overly augmented monster of steel and bionics leans into the light of the display, cables hissing as they interface with the flickering holo-display. With a dull whine, several reports start spiraling across the hololithe. The venerable Magos Dominus Gretia of Balvaria wheezes audibly as their heavily synthesized voices rumble into the space.

"Assessment: Illogical. Reduction of active forces inevitable when attempting boarding actions in the void: It is ill advised as it removes the ability for the Iron Hounds armor to supplement the arrayed regiments fighting forces. Skitarii forces down to 63% combat capacity. Calculated result of ship to ship action: Defeat; Inevitable."

Tomas works his jaw, watching the bickering trio, his attention turning to Major Bruma as he leans forth to request his superior's attention.

"Sir, are they truly debating a ship to ship action against the greenskins?"

Major Bruma casts a glance towards Tomas, throwing one last look towards Jalah and Gretia as they start to bicker over odds and chances. The Major speaks in a hushed tone, his face clear tired and weary from this long form deliberation.

"Aye Lieutenant, Commissar-Captain Jalah is in favor of taking the fight to the Greenskin aboard their ships, much to Gretia's dismay. Bulgraff has thus far remained neutral in the debat, but has suggested we deploy planetside to try and bait the greenskins into a fight on the ground. That would give our fleet the chance they need to pull away, but leaves us stranded if the operation starts to fall apart."

This draws a displeased look from Lieutenant, all while watching the two dilberating parties. His mind mulls over the situation at hand. Truly they had been given the worst lots of all, there was the choice to die in the void or perish on the ground in a desperate gambit for reinforcements. Neither of these options sounded particularly lovely compared to the other.

"Sir, if I am not mistaken, wouldn't that mean our regiment is going to end up being the ones forced to handle the bulk of the fighting, well after the voids-men. I don't recall any of the others being trained to stage ship to ship actions?"

Bruma merely shakes his head as the sudden clanging ring of a cog-axe haft slamming onto the deck, ripples through the air. The quiet conversation breaks as Gretia spits out her words flatly, binary-cant hissing to punctuate her words.

"Negative: I will not approve the deployment of valuable forge assets in a suicide gambit by a young blood seeking glory. Firm Reminder: That whilst the Balvarian Iron Hounds, technically fall into the purview structures of the Imperial Guard, they are entirely composed of Forgeworld assets, thus they fall squarely under Mechanicus directives."

With a ragged exhale, Tomas stares down at the deck before him, feeling the growing tension between the various regiments only compounding on their dismal failure to defend Ichorus V from the rampaging greenskins.

_Fools are content to argue over details when we need some measure of action. Damn it all._

A flicker of movement at his side, causes him to nearly flinch as the silent form of Ran has reappeared once more, with two smoldering cups of recaff in either hand. He gladly takes the offered drink and sips from it as he pulls a few steps away from the deliberations to catch his proverbial breath.

Ran's keen smoldering eyes watch the arguing duo, with a tilt of her head curiously, her attention returns to Tomas as she lowers her tone.

"Why are they fighting? Aren't your people facing a common enemy, I don't see the need for all this pointless bickering."

Tomas follows her gaze to the Magos and Commissar-Captain as they debate void combat with a bit of a heated edge.

"Eh, it's not so simple truthfully. When it comes down to it, we all come from different places and all of them have different ideas and notions when it comes to fighting a battle. Hard to say who is really right or wrong here, each one has a point to be made but…." He glances at Ran and gives a shake of his head. "... The loss of senior staffers in our last campaign are hampering us here, large egos notwithstanding."

Ran slowly acknowledges such, her gaze moving once more to Tomas as she gives a empty smile,

"Ah, so it is not at all different from dealing with powerful individuals that, despite having common ground and cause, tend to start to bicker and fight over smaller details. Though I will say, you and your kind must truly enjoy arguing on some level, as you do it so much."

Tomas merely shrugs to the notion, as he indicates to Ran with a gesture of his steaming recaff cup to keep such notions stowed away.

"Eh, don't phrase it so strangely, You don't want to start talking in such a way as it paints you as a high-born, will leave you disconnected from a low-born around you. Might save you from getting caught up in a fight or two. As for arguing? Yeah, we seem to have a penchant for it, don't we?"

Ran takes a long drink from her recaff, before she indicates to Tomas with the edge of her cup.

"So, are you going to tell them what Lady Yukari mentioned, about the bad people among your crew?"

Tomas inhales tiredly, glancing back at the bickering pair, before he stands by musing once more, providing her a shake of his head.

"Eh, frankly with all due respect to your Master, I don't believe her for a second. I still say we should send her a medic to check her out, talking nonsense. Besides I can't even present such to the Major without some measure of physical evidence, lest he question my capability."

_But, our whole meeting was quite strange, perhaps is worth a mention to Major Bruma?_

The two settle into a gentle quiet, sipping away from their recaff, before a sudden silence falls upon the room, Tomas catches the tell-tale whirr and clank of the throne starting to move. His eyes are drawn up in time to see the various displays move and part before the throne, an aged figure moves the screens aside as he stares down at the now hushed collective before him.

Occupying the throne for the bridge, was none other than Commodore Terval, the rank bearing senior officer of the fleet. The commodore stares down with a withered eye, and a gently clicking bionic as he steeples his white gloved hands. His voice speaking up, carrying a heavy weight of Imperial authority as he does.

"Enough, we do not have time for this bickering. I have made my election in this matter. The fact of the matter remains, the Battlegroup as it stands is weakened from our withdrawal from Ichorous. This leaves the notion of ship to ship actions non-viable. I do not suspect this oncoming battle will play out as we have all hoped. Commissar Bulgraff, is the Ichorous V Guard prepared for planetstrike?"

The aging commissar, glances firmly up to Commodore with an air of confidence,

"Of course Commodore, at your will we stand ready to go forth into the hells of battle. Ichorous V's own stand ready to strike for vengeance."

The reply draws affirmation from the Commodore, who then turns his attention to Commissar-Captain Jalah, his gaze stoic.

"Commissar-Captain, I understand your eagerness to strike back at the foe, as your regiment is now without the council of your venerable colonel, but now is not the time for vainglorious last stands. As the Emperor decrees, that our lives are his currency, to be well spent and well accounted. Remember this. You will join the Ichorous V guard in their planet-strike, I expect your Dune-Breakers to draw a river of Greenskin blood that I can see from orbit."

Tomas watches as the Commodore's imposing sight falls upon Major Bruma and himself, the weight of that gaze giving the Lieutenant a flutter in the pit of his stomach, as the older man speaks out.

"Major Bruma, we both know what my orders are to be. When we complete our transition to real-space, I want you and your men off my ship with your Valkyries and en route planetside. Your men have the most experience battling against greenskins, I expect you and your boys to take the lead and do what you do best."

The Commodore's gaze finally shifts towards the towering Magos, who stood firmly by watching the old man with the same inscrutable look as dozens of glowing lenses focused on the withered ship master.

"I understand your concern and your position Magos, I have dealt many times in my career, with the independent functionaries of the Mechanicus more times than I can recall. Whilst you do have operational authority here over your men, I implore you, for the mutual survival of our two factions. To get your armor and forces planetside with the Guard, as it is in poor taste to let venerable war-machines such as your Forgeworlds perish in the cold void of space."

The Magos is given pause, clearly mulling over the Commodore's words. However, as Tomas watches the parties start to come to a resolution, the sudden arrival of a menial that shoves his way between him and Ran causes them both to stagger away surprised.

Bypassing the startled Lieutenant, the man races half slouched beneath a stack of reports. He stops before the Commodore's throne, leaning up as he bows before him. With an acknowledgement from Terval, the Menial speaks up, interjecting into the conversation.

"M-Most blessed Commodore, recent auspex sweeps have confirmed that our flotilla is no longer travelling alone. I-It would appear that we are receiving ghost pings within our formation. W-We are trying currently to pin down the target and it's origin."

Terval slumps back in the throne, rubbing his temple as he indicates for the menial to provide him the document in question. Snatching up the data from the serf he rapidly scans the report.

"A ghost has joined our fleet you say? How troublesome, this vessel in question, when did you first register it on auspex?"

The menial shudders, withdrawing a data-slate to which he reviews.

"From what the servitors report, it was a few hours ago, there was no hymnal sent to the astropath, and from what we can tell an encoded transmission may have escaped our own vessel. Our voids-men are searching the lower decks for it's source as we speak, but we cannot be certain as to the nature of this transmission, as the augury only recently discovered it as well as a coded reply which, strangely enough, coincided with the unknown vessel's arrival. "

Commodore Terval leans in, steepling his gloved fingers once more as he nods,

"Very well, pray tell, did you manage to ensnare the message? I want to hear it."

The deck serf moves past Tomas once more, heading for the hololithe as he inserts the data-slate into the nearest junction, scrolling through data as he waits for the hololithe to sputter and stirr to life with the new data.

"Aye, of course M'Lord, bringing it up now."

Tomas and Ran figit on their feet, exchanging an uneasy glance between one another as the Lieutenant furrows his brow, the conversation with Lady Yukari playing over in his head once more.

_Maybe there was something to that talk of seditionist, this is a bit too coincidental to be merely happy accidents, might as well alert the Major to be aware of such … _

He moves alongside Bruma, prepared to speak, he finds himself cut off when the vox overhead of them groans and crackles to life. The caster sits sputtering a steady stream of static laced whitenoise. After a few moments a dull and soft squeal and trill alternate as the static continues. The dull hissing of the vox-speakers continues as Tomas cocks his head and glances around confused at the pointless white noise.

However he nearly gives up the ghost when the Magos Dominus, who was staring quizzically the entire time, suddenly leaps to life. The Magos rises to her full height, hefting her vast halberd upward as she moves towards the junction and menial, a sythenzied roar echoing in the room.

"Fool! Immediate: Cease broadcast at once! Inbound transmission providing vectors for scrap-code infection!"

The menial froze as the Magos' titanic cog-axe sweeps down and crushes the junction, albeit too late. The entire room is suddenly plunged with a blare of blinding white light from the hololithe, before plunging deeply into pitch-black. The banks of cogitators hiss and kick out sparks and squeal as the entire ship seems to shudder like some living hurt thing.

Standing in the dark of the room, light only by the faintly glowing bionics of those present, Tomas watches as Ran moves over to his side, staring at him quizzically, her hand near her hip and upon the simple holster she bore.

"I am assuming that was not a normal function of that device, correct?"

Tomas mirrors her action, his shoulder shrugging free his hot-shot rifle, as he checks over the power cells, a firm shake of his head the only response.

"Not in the slightest, but it's something that's going to be a problem here shortly."

He quickly scans the corners of the bridge, watching the shadowy forms of menials as they race about, trying urgently to restore power to the deck. Laying about are several access panels being hurled away from the wall as they scabber to inspect the inner-workings under the light of flickering handheld luminators.

_Scrap-code, that means we not only have issues within, we've got someone toying with us without…_

The Lieutenant glances back over his shoulder to spy the Magos towering over the menial, her clawed mechandrites clasped around his neck as she rung him like a ragdoll, hissing in a flat but entirely irate artificial voice.

"Fool! Fool! You've doomed us all: Critical Alert: Subsystems straining across the vessel, the cogitators, our blessed Machine Spirit, it wails in agony!"

Tomas indicates to Ran, to move towards the bridge's outer edge, his gaze fixed upon Major Bruma eagerly awaiting his orders. However, just as the first menial man manages to reach the throne with a report, the world is cast in multi-spectral light from beyond the view port's vast field into the immaterial sea beyond

A blinding flash of silver-white light erupts before churning sea beyond the viewport, the shimmering and redolent light flares brightly, bathing the bridge in a blinding silver-white light. As Tomas strains his vision, he manages to catch sight of dancing hexagrammic wards and sigils that composed the ancient and potent Gellar Field, the venerable wards and runes crawl across the vessel's hull acting as it's bulwark against the sea of the Immaterium flicker and silently ebb away..

Tomas felt a dawning dread awaken within him as he lunged into action, passing by the several startled deck-serfs to the nearest bank of cogitators arrayed before him. He'd stare down at the console in muted terror as he spies several display screens, each of them crying out that the Gellar Field not just for their vessel but the fleet was reporting much the same, their sole shield from the nightmarish horrors of the realm of Chaos, was no more.

_We're exposed, we've got nothing to cover us from the sea beyond …._

A sharp tug on his shoulder guard draws his attention away from the console as he finds Ran at his right, a stoic look upon her face, as she indicates to the far door in the chamber.

"There is something amiss in the bowels of the vessel, there is an uneasiness within the air, just as my Master predicted. If we can reach it, we can buy the needed time to get this ship safely to its destination."

Tomas stares at her, an equal sense of discomfort at the notion, an uncomfortable itch at his palm giving some a sense of unease.

_What did she expect him to do? He couldn't just storm off on a mad-womens hunch. There had to be another explanation. But this whole sequence of events seemed surreal… _

"Of course something is amiss, we damn well are laid bare before the warp, the Geller field is down. Before we know it, the ship will be swarming with the taint of the Ruinous Powers."

Ran merely tightens her grip on his shoulder guard, as she reiderates her call for his attention upon the far doorway.

"It doesn't have to! We can stop it, there is something down there, it is an origin point for this entire catastrophe. There are those aboard that were laboring on this oddity before your Field had failed. It's here now, if we can stop it or at least stall it. It would buy all of your friends and those aboard a chance to escape this place."

_ It was impossible, there was no way that this retainer knew anything about what was unfolding. He couldn't fathom that this whole situation had been foreseen. Unless … _

Tomas leans in and locks his eyes with her, his mind working as he tries to rationalize her words in his own head, truthfully he didn't see many other options himself here. However, the notion that this strange woman suddenly knew where the problem was, didn't sit quite well with him either.

"How do you know this? Why should I trust you on this or your Master?"

"Because our goals are aligned, we both want to see those aboard survive. I have certain talents gifted to me, those that my Master saw would be invaluable in the course of our time together, will you act or will you not?"

Tomas grits his teeth, his gaze torn away from Ran as he calls over to Major Bruma, his voice strained as he shouts over the panicking menials.

"Major! Geller Fields down across the fleet, we are laid bare before the Immaterium. Though, sir, I might have a way to get to the source of this problem, I need a team to head below deck. I've got information from a contact aboard that suspects the cause of this is somehow already aboard our vessel. I might have a hunch as to where it's hiding."

Major Bruma is pulled away from the vox-unit he is on, his steely focus zeroed squarely upon Tomas, the churning uneasy in the Lieutenant's gut stays with him for a good few moments, before his superior merely nods.

"Very well Foley, your intuition has served us well in the past. Don't make me regret this as you have my blessings to investigate your hunch… " He pauses and casts a firm look to the Commodore and the Magos. "... Can you spare any of your men to assist my officer in his search for the source of this disruption? My boy is as steadfast as they come, I've no reason to expect anything else now."

The Magos clatters over upon their many machine legs, looming over Tomas as her cold synthesized voice grates, "Under what pretense should trust be provided to the Lieutenant: It was his unit that failed to cover their designated landing zone on Icharous: His actions resulted in higher casualties among his unit: The Lieutenant's judgement may be impaired or compromised by redemption seeking."

Tomas matches the Magos gaze, casting a swift glance to the confident faced Ran, before he narrows his gaze.

"I know it's a gamble, but if this pans out, it will buy us precious time to complete our emergency jump back into real-space. If I'm wrong, we're dead anyway, so what have we got to lose?"

Gretia stares coldly down at him for a time before she briskly turns, a short cryptic blurt of machine-code binary echo across the deck as from one of the many looming shadows at the holo-liths edge emerge, revealing a crimson-cloaked armor clad member of the Skitarii cradling a sizeable galvanic rifle in her arms.

The Skitarii ranger strides forth to stand alongside the Magos, exchanging a binary cant unknowable to those outside the augmented members of the Machine Cult. With a solid and confirming nod, the Skitarii adjusts her galvanic rifle upon her armored shoulder and bows towards Tomas.

"Skitarii Alpha 211-Gamma at your command Lt. Foley, I have access to fleet-coms, the Magos requests that we provide flash-vox traffic once we complete our task. Do you know our mission parameters?"

Tomas turns his head to Ran, who steps up to the task, her gaze locked determinedly at the Skitarii.

"Yes, the source of this disruption is several decks below our location, my master's contacts suspect the menials down there have been conspiring for some time to cast our vessel adrift in the Immaterial. If we can manage to reach them and stop their work, we will save this vessel."

Tomas flashs a faux confident nod to Gamma, there was a palaple uncertainty to this whole venture. Inwardly he frets, unsure if it was even wise to place his trust in someone that had been so unceremoniously thrust upon him, let alone their limited interaction. But frankly in this situation, he didn't see many other options lining up to offer solutions to their current predicament.

The trio make their preparations to depart, before the sight of the Commodore leaning round his throne ensnares the Lieutenants attention, the older man indicates firmly as he addresses them.

"If this turns to a false lead, I want you and your contingent to secure the savior pods at junction B-23. Those are for the bridge staff in the event of a catastrophic event, it is your duty to hold them if you're unable to complete your objective. At Major Bruma's request, I will route my senior deck officer to support you. If you're having trouble finding him, just follow the trail of spent cartridges and bodies. His name is Viktor. May Him on Earth watch over you boy, I expect a good report from you and your team."

With that Tomas signs the aquila before his chest to the Commodore, rallying his hastily composed team as he moved for the far door, casting a wary glance back at Ran as she raced alongside him.

_This has all the makings of a make or break gambit, dear Emperor don't let this be a fool's errand…._


	4. Chapter 3 - Out of the Fire

**[[ \\\ ++ :: Beginning Scene Reconstruction :: ++ / ]]**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lt. Tomas Foley :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Playback :: ++ /**

The course ahead of him was unclear as Tomas led the trio further down into the bowls of the titanic vessel. Their course leading them past the hurried and frantic forms of menials and arms-men hastily construction barricades in the corridors whilst sealing off certain passage ways. Far in the distance, the eternal hiss and bark of weapons fire rumbled.

Their pathway forward was stilted several times, as Tomas and Gamma trail Ran, the gold eyed lass pausing several times as she works to get her bearings in the labyrinthian internals of the vessel, as they raced across carbon scored corridors and past blood spattered gantries across vast water reclamation tanks.

The further down within the belly of the beast they travelled the more sparse the menials and their accompanying arms-men grew, as the trio come to a halt within the vast water reclamation chambers, Tomas gestures for Gamma to come aside him as he stares off the gantry they are upon, into the churning vat of faintly glowing water below.

"Aye, you got any comms traffic related to who is scuffling with the crew? The damn weapons fire seems to be getting closer the further we travel downward."

Gamma stares emptily at Tomas, the highly polished silver feminine death mask she wore merely reflected Tomas own face and unease squarely back at him as a stout antenna extends from her power-pack.

"Processing: It would appear from current contact reports, that elements of the ships menials have staged some sort of coordinated armed revolt nearly in perfect time with our Gellar Field's failure. They have raided several voids-men stations and looted the weapons from such. Their goals are unknown at this time."

The thought was far from comforting as Tomas stares down at the water, a sharp shake of his head following. This was clearly something planned out far in advance, this all reeked of some sort of scheme aimed to weaken them. As Yukari's words come back unbidden to his mind surrounding the impending future, he indicates to Ran as he concedes his doubt may have been misplaced .

"Aye, sounds a bit too coincidental as it lines up with what Lady Yakumo was saying, someone was playing a long game and now we gotta clean up the mess. "

Gamma casts a glance towards Ran, who had taken up a spot at the center of the gangway, her head turning to and fro as she watches for something unseen. The steel faced Skitarii indicates towards her and lowers her tone.

"Inquiry; The companion you are travelling with, how is she so familiar with the inner layout of the vessel? She isn't…" The Skitarii turns to face Tomas once more, a pair of cold lenses focusing on him, scrying him intently. "... An abnormality is she? I do not spy any sanctioned equipment upon her nor any sign of implant work to suggest her ability to interact with the vessel's blessed machine spirit."

The question gave Tomas pause as he too, gazes over at Ran, the unnatural and uneering manner in which she was able to lead them about, not to mention the apparent inherent knowledge of what might be at the heart of his problem, did unsettle him if he was being honest. He does however, keep his tone neutral, opting to maintain the group cohesion.

"Not too sure, she has a strange knack for things, but frankly you know as much about her as I do. She was dropped into my lap just a short time ago as the chronometer counts. Her Master seemed a bit eccentric and daft but so far has been correct in her foresight. As for Ran here? She seems harmless enough, we don't have room nor time to second guess…"

Gamma moves to bring the baroque galvanic rifle from her shoulder, a steel hand clasping at it's wooden stock as she stares unreadibly at Ran,

"Perhaps she is aiding and embedding the menial uprising: My logic engine dictates that the chances of her betraying us: are nearly at 99.9 percent certainty. It would be wise to dispose of her now, rather than risk falling into any sort of trap she might have laid for us. Foresight without tempered logic-engines rarely leads to positive conclusions."

Catching the slight air of tension, despite the synthesized and artificial voice of the Skitarii, Tomas casually reaches out and clasps hold of her boxy and angular shoulder guard and gives her a slight squeeze, a placating tone on his voice.

"Easy there cog-gal, we don't need to leap to conclusions. There will be plenty of chances to turn the tides on her if this goes bad. Besides my thought is, if she is in line with the enemy, we have the chance to intentionally get stuck in and foil her plans. Closer we stick with her, the better our odds of mucking up something important for these traitors."

He casts his gaze back towards Ran, who had idly crossed her arms, tapping a boot on the grating beneath them. He calls over to her, aiming to change the topic.

"Aye, Ran? Is there any particular reason why you've chosen water reclamation as the place we will idle about at? Don't we have more pressing matters?"

Ran turns back, that same sharp and keen look in her eyes as she raises a gloved hand to halt him, motioning forward to a sizable bulkhead at the end of the gangplank.

"From what I recall of the deck layout, we are at the geometric center, this area serves as a central hub that travels outward to the rest of the deck, we have the highest probability of encountering the man that the Commodore assigned to us, here."

The Lieutenant and Skitarii exchange looks, before Tomas indicates with a shrug to Ran, he tries to give a wry smile as he speaks.

"Eh, might need to recalculate that one, Gamma here is a Skitarii, she has a bit more solid means of calculating that. Best to leave the number crunching to those with inbuilt cogitators. I say let's get moving the-"

Tomas finds himself cut off as the silent and motionless form of Gamma extends her hand, slapping it against is breastplate as she stares stoically at Ran,

"This…. Calculation is accurate, we are indeed in the center of the deck floor plans. How did you calculate that so swiftly? Are you assisted by any augmentation?"

Ran merely flash a confident grin and snaps a thumbs up to Gamma and Tomas, as they standby dumbfounded.

"Can't say I have any fancy bionics, I just have a knack for crunching numbers… Our new friends should be arriving shortly."

The dumbfounded Tomas was readying a reply, when the door opposite the trio hissed audibly, the vast blast door moving apart as a shower of sparks rained down as the massive door slide apart, revealing a sizeable figure backlit by the brightly glowing pale lights from the corridor beyond.

The figure observed the trio from a distance, clad head to boot in an armored void suit of venerable design and quality, the newcomer bore in his hand the considerable bulk of an idly whirring rotor cannon. Stacked tall beneath his free arm were several cases of fresh munitions. This new arrival promptly flicks off his suit's blinding luminators, as he lumbers over to the party, his heavy boots clanging against the gangway. The armored helm of the man sweeps between the trio, as he moves alongside.

As promptly as he arrived, he merely drops the heavy cases of ammunition to the ground and takes a heavy knee. His gaze turns to them, as he starts to prepare his suit's feeder line to intake munitions onto the heavy drum affixed at his suits back. The suit's face-shield hisses as it flips upward, revealing the worn and tired face of Deck Officer Viktor, a thick Vostroyan accent in his tone.

"Ah, so you are the Lieutenant that Viktor was sent to assist, aye? Well good then, help me load my weapon's reservoir, before those traitors gather up the courage to come back."

A bit taken aback, Tomas merely moves to heft one of the heavy cases to the munition reservoir on the man's back, the munition case locking in as it rapidly siphons shells and feeds them into a pair of rotating drums.

"Well… to say your right would be an understatement. Aye I am Lieutenant Tomas, Sky Raiders, we were sent down here to deal with the source of our failed Geller Field. Supposedly it was down on this level."

Viktor merely nods his head as he manually rotates the barrel of his rotor-cannon, double checking his feed as he gives a nonchalant shrug to the assisting lieutenant.

"Yes, this level is currently bloated with traitors, they raided my deck's armory and killed my quartermaster. I have been hemming them into the lower water tanks. Just had to reload, many bodies require many bullets."

Gamma moves forth and squat down before him, a curious air about her as she watches Viktor go about his work, a flat tone in her synthetic voice.

"Curious: How did you know our Imperial aligned if the deck is swarming with traitors? You should have opened fire on first making contact with us."

Viktor gives her a quizzical look, before shaking his head dismissively as his arm lurches as the new munitions race to fill the half empty feed-line to his cannon.

"Eh? Why would Viktor do that? You did not shoot at him. Traitors, no think right with their small brains, heads are full of too much treason. No, easier to wait, void armor could have taken a hit or two. Besides, why do you think Viktor kept a few shots in reserve? Must think big, not small like traitors."

He punctuates his words with a broken tooth grin, as he depresses the rotor-cannons activator, the barrels whirring suddenly, before he lets the weapon fall silent again with a hearty chuckle.

"Meh, funny times. Now come, lower water tanks are filled to brim with traitors that want to play with corpses. We must now go and step on their heads properly to teach them the final lesson."

Ran looks on with a bit of squeamish look on her face, clearly uneasy at the casual mention of slaughter, just as Tomas finishes loading the spare munition cases into the Deck Officers rotor-cannon.

"That is…. A colorful way to describe these humans, do we have to go and kill them? Isn't there any way we might be able to talk them down or out of their actions?"

The trio give a side-ways glance to Ran, as they sit there in an awkward silence. Viktor rises and moves to her side slapping an armored glove on her shoulder whilst giving her a sagely nod, it was almost as if he appears ready to dispense invaluable wisdom.

"Heh, No."

Viktor lumbers off back towards the door he came from, Gamma moving in trail with him leaving Tomas to cover their rear alongside Ran, the latter carrying a disappointed face.

"Do we really have to kill them? Is there some reason why they won't listen to reason?"

The Lieutenant casts a glance towards the departing forms of the Voidsmen and Skitarii, indicating to Ran to come along with him somewhat taken aback by the naivety of her inquiry.

"Eh? Not sure what you mean, they are trying to drag this ship down and feed on it's lifeblood like a parasite. There isn't any fate more fitting to the traitor than death, their lives are forfeit the moment they take up arms against servants loyal to the Throne in these dire times."

Ran moves alongside Tomas, shaking her head mournfully at the notion, as the duo move to catch up with the leading pair of their company.

"Still seems like a waste, in the grand scheme of things."

As the pair cross the vast gang-way suspended above the churning vats of water below, Tomas gives a lingering glance towards Ran providing her a flat retort, as they and their other companions finally reach the steam cloaked corridor.

"Don't get weak in the knees on me Ran, we can't start second guessing here. I'm going to bet, this is the first combat operation? Can't start thinking about these sorts of things in the field, remember, if you're a faithful servant of Terra then the death you deal to traitors and heretics is ordained and just."

Ran looks upon Tomas with blatant unease upon her features, she does however give him a slow affirmation, indicating her understanding or at least willingness to comply with his orders.

"I have my reserves, but if it is what you will, then it will be done."

The quartet manage to make their way through the churning and winding corridors deeper down into the water reclamation deck, the signs of battle growing ever more apparent. The path they followed lead them down a oversized flight of stairs that terminated in a wrenched and torn asunder bulkhead, the room beyond the ground floor for the vast water tanks, the titanic cylinders churning and mixing not the life giving water they were due, but vast churning cauldrons of crimson ichor.

Crudely hacked into the deck-plating were intricate and exhaustive rune-work that scrawled and sprawled across the large open space. The only cover provided were vast cargo pods that had been left scattered about and pushed aside. Brutally rising above the deck, lashed between two of the massive water-tanks, was a crude upturned pair of mangled scrap iron and reclaimed material from the surrounding decks. The wicked horn like construction towered over the scene below it, as faintly sparks of ruddy hue leap and dance between the twisted and foul rune inscribed gate-way. Sprawled before the twisted hell-gate were the myriad of forms of warped worshipers and subverted menials that danced and bleed to stir the gate to life, their outer periphery guarded by a host of haphazardly armed traitor voids-men

The Lieutenant casts furtive glances from behind the cover of the mangled bulkhead, furthermore turning to face his companions as he briefs them on the grim situation, a glance to Ran punctuating his words with an indication to the throng of cultists beyond the door.

"Well, it's worse than we projected, I thought you said there was a 'disruption' not a damn well full blown cult on the level. What about you Deck-Master, did you know about this?"

Ran and Viktor exchange a look, the former speaking up first as Viktor idly spins the barrel of his rotor cannon, counting the foes number beyond the door.

"How am I to know what all that means? I told you I knew there was something afoot within the ship, not that I knew inherently what it was. What are the madmen doing anyway? Why are they spilling their blood in such a vile manner? It's drawing in unnatural energies and focusing them here."

Tomas adjusts his las-rifle, inspecting it as he thumbs off the safety, a cautious glance inside the room, making certain they haven't been spotted.

"Ran, I think that's their plan to be honest with you. They are damnable cultists worshiping the Ruinous Powers. Throne preserves us if they catch something's attention. Gamma, get flash traffic across the comms and tell the bridge we found the source of the disruption, we need backup to knock them out for good."

Gamma stares vacantly at the far wall as the heavy antenna extends from her power-pack, her jade eyes flickering for a moment before she reports in flatly.

"Warning: Comms relay has been damaged two floors above us, I am attempting to reroute the message through peer connections, however several Magi are not responding to hails over the noosphere. I estimate the damage wrought by the Cultists is higher than initially estimated."

The trio with the Skitarii give her the most frigid stare they can muster, Tomas leans back into the hall and lowers his tone urgently as he fights to keep his voice low.

"The hell do you mean the comms relay isn't working? Re-route the message through another one, or a further one, damn well demand a runner if you have to, we aren't charging into that room and drawing that fire on us, we need support."

Viktor glances over as he manually lifts his visor with a wide grin on his face, as he cues the wind up for the rotor-cannon.

"We do not need backup, backup is for weak men. I have at least six barrels for these traitors and many bullets to spare. No need to cower behind cover. We tear apart their cover and leave them dead. Dead men cannot shoot back, no?"

Tomas looks down at the overly eager Voids-men, and stares daggers with a shake of his head.

"Damn well you better not…" Another stolen glance into the room, the cultists were slowly building up their ritual, the chanting growing more impassioned as more blood was spilled for the sake of their dark art. "... Damnation, they are getting lively, not a good sign. Alright, take stock then, we need to clear them out as quickly as possible. What have we all got?"

The group pools their arms, between the quartet of them, they come out with a pair of las-pistols, a bandolier of mixed grenades, one worn shock maul, Viktors rotor cannon, Gamma's galvanic rifle and a single hotshot lasrifle to boot. The collection leaves much to be desired.

The trio of Gamma, Viktor and Tomas do stare dumbfoundedly as Ran produces only a single archaic las-pistol from her holster, along with a few blind grenades as well. The normally stoic Ran looks somewhat unabashedly ashamed as she tries to explain her arms.

"I did not have proper time to get my actual weapons together. Besides this is a very special las-pistol, it's not like yours, it has unique properties my capabilities will be on par with yours, I promise."

Gamma looks at the weapon with a long impassive gaze, before flatting commenting in her empty tone.

"Observation: You don't have a power cell in the weapon."  
Ran's face flushes embarrassed as she recovers the weapon, turning it over in her hand with all the experience of a conscript fresh into the field, as she thumbs the empty slot where a power cell should occupy.

"I-I knew that."

Tomas works his jaw idly, jabbing a finger on her breastplate before motioning at the corner.

"I want to convey my disappointment and it's immeasurable weight, but you're going to plant your arse right there… " He produces the few grenades he had in his kit and holds them before her. "...You can throw right? Your arm at least works right? Then just throw grenades when we call the target."

Ran hesitantly takes the bandolier of explosives, turning it over in her hand as she indicates her understanding of the instruction, Tomas wheels about and stares out the doorway, nodding to the group at his back.

"Alright, it's just us for now, we move fast enough they won't be able to form a cohesive counter push. In His name lets us smite these traitors."

The duo of Gamma and Viktor give their sign of acknowledgement as the group begins their breach of the chamber. Tomas and Gamma lead the group into the fray, their first steps into the room, result in a hail of blazing lances of light and sparks of energy leap from their weapons, cutting down the sentries nearest the door. The cultists were sluggish to reply to the assault, the ruthless efficiency in which the pair had entered, allowed the group to reach the cover of the nearest set of cargo pods.

However the world was thrown fully into madness as Viktor stepped forth into the chamber, errant auto-gun slugs deflecting off his hardened void plate, as he revs up his a roaring laugh that rolls from him, he unleashes the terrifying weapon's fury forth in a near steady stream of shrieking manstopper slugs squarely into the confused ranks of the traitorous menials and their ilk.

Tomas ducks into cover behind the fallen form of a cargo container as he watches the battle begin to take shape, the cults tightly hunkered down near the edges of the vast water tanks, throwing over cargo crates and supply panels as makeshift cover, as they throw forth sporadic return fire. Taking notice of a brace of these menials attempting to form a cohesive unit beyond a cluster of crates, he calls out to Ran sharply indicating the traitors mustering point.

The slight form of the bodyguard leans out from her shelter at the door, spying Tomas's mark, as she heaves forth one of the fragmentation grenades. Much to his surprise, her throw manages to not only clear friendly lines, but also land with an immaculate bounce into the cover of the traitors, a hailstorm of searing shrapnel shredding the traitors where they cowered. He gives a rousing cheer for the lass as she readies another, throwing forth her deadly payload in the thickest throngs of the traitors.

From his position, on the outer ring of battle, Tomas spies the menials shifting about, hastily trying to regroup themselves as their order of battle was absolutely non-existent. He does, however, take note of the bloodshed, and how the wicked runes hacked crudely into the deck seem to drink deeply of the twisted life-blood of the fallen disciples. As the traitors fall, the inward pang of concern makes itself known to the Lieutenant.

_It's too easy, something ain't right here. This response is about as organized as grox herders trying to stave off orks. What in Terra's holy name is their game here…_

The Lieutenant watches as the menials gleefully throw themselves into the path of Viktors roaring cannon, the flash vaporized hits from Gamma's arc-rifle only seeming to bolster their resolve to throw themselves against the loyalists and their defensive position. A shout from Ran drew his attention upward, as upon a suspended gangway, did a trio of traitorous guardsmen clad in the blood soaked garb of Ichorous V's.

The traitors zealously work to set up a heavy stubber behind the weapon's heavy gunshield. He snaps his rifle upward squeezing off several shots, but the shields hide merely scoffs at his retort, the stubber leveling at him as a fusillade of shots stream towards him.

His eyes widen in shock as he leaps for cover, only to find himself face down upon the deck, no less than several feet from his original place of refuge. Ran lay atop of him, pushing him down as they hunker behind the cover of a heavy cargo crate. The lass leans down and hisses to him.

"I told you to watch out! Didn't you see them? Stay here for a moment, I might be able to neutralize their weapon."

Tomas manages to roll over to his back, prepared to hurl an sharp retort before he spies her standing tall, archaic las-pistol in hand, with that uneasy golden shimmer in her eyes. She swiftly rises from cover, her weapon, despite lacking its power cell, via unnatural means builds charge at it's barrel before a leaping searing bolt of redundant amber springs forth.

The shot streaking over the heads of the traitorous gunning crew and striking the ceiling above them. However, uncharacteristically of las-bolts, the shot does not disperse its energy into the plate, instead it refocuses itself akin to a ricochet back down towards the hunkered traitors. The shot lancing the weapons gunner, much to the shock of his loader and spotter that promptly abandoned their position only to be cut down by shots from Gamma's rifle.

The Lieutenant stares at the lass with a mixture of unbridled awe, and a growing sense of fear. He looks between the shot and her smoldering weapons barrel, just as he spies that resolved look and shimmer being sapped from her form. She staggers uneasily, as the las-pistol falls from her grip.

Reacting from the gut, Tomas shoves himself over as he watches her collapse, managing to catch her and haul her back into the relative safety of the cargo container form.

With a cautious glance over the edge of the crate, satisfied that Viktor and Gamma were more than capable of ruthlessly dealing with the now shattered resolve of the traitors, he stares down at Ran, a sharp and reprimanding tone on his voice.

"Damn fool, I told you to stay back in the cover of the hall, a stubber isn't going to hew me down. The hell was that anyway? Don't you dare tell me you're one of them immaterial channeling freaks. Don't you put that on me, not here and not now."

Ran lays in his arms, raggedly breathing as she tries weakly to recompose herself, an uneasy shake of her head merely part of her reply.

"N-No the energy here is malign and of no use to me, being so far from my Master is exhausting. Besides, I couldn't let you get hurt, my Master said to protect you, and humans are so slow to react."

A scowl is drawn from Tomas, while peering over cover as he watches the fight slowly winding down, however the twisted metal gate-way has only grown more excited, biting lances of energy striking between the upturned arc as it builds in intensity.

"Damn it girl, you said you knew of this device? How in the Emperor's name do we cut it off, the worshipers are either dead or fleeing, and the thing is still flaring up ever more actively."

Ran strains, leaning past the Lieutenants arm as she watches the gateway, a weak grimace forms on her face as she mutters.

"It appears we arrived far too late, this gambit was rigged against us from the start it seems. We will have to adjust accordingly and deal with the fallout after. Master's tertiary plans are soon to be put into effect, we had best make ready for our transition into real-space."

_Damnation, this is all going to hell, and we are left stuck holding the door ..._

Tomas peers over the lip of the crate, tapping his vox-bead a few times to clear the shrieking static that assails the channel.

"Viktor, Gamma, times up. Pack it up and head for our secondary objective to secure the savior pods. We are falling back to the Commodore's rally point."

Viktor turns towards the place Tomas was sheltering, his arms out in a heavy shrug as he steps down heavily upon the squirming form of a downed menial.

"What? Withdraw? But we are winning Lieutenant. No need to run, just crush more of these traitors beneath boots. All will be well."

Gamma emerges from the rear of one of the reclamation vats, her shock maul sparking and dripping with crimson rivulets, as she turns towards the daemonic gateway, vox clicking to register her retort.

"The Lieutenant is correct, power consumption on this deck has escalated considerably, we are at risk of exposure to unsafe levels of unstable energy. Confirming order to withdraw."

Viktor gives a disappointed wave of his free hand, his snarky remark cut short as the sharp crack of thunderous energy discharge ripples in the room, the scent of ozone and a thick copper taste upon the tongue as the mangled metal portal frame ripples with sparking and unnatural energies. The fluttering scarlet flames leap between the two upturned crude iron spires, the dancing flames slowly merge together as a hellish churning mass of the immaterial manifests itself and grows, slowly opening like a yawning maw.

Beyond the threshold of this rippling tear in reality, hellish figures move and shift, their afterimages revealing a towering quartet of ceramite clad monsters that bear the unmistakable silhouette of the fabled Adeptus Astarte looming just beyond the portals threshold. As the cause-way resolves, a twisted host of mutated bestial servants arrayed before them start to claw and push against the weakening barrier of reality causing it to fracture before them.

Gamma stares on, back peddling slowly towards the door, as her voice speaks aloud, over the din and shriek of the building portals energy.

"Alert: Astarte assistance was not requested nor confirmed. This unit finds this entire situation suspect, recommending the unit prioritize secondary objectives."

Tomas swallows dryly as he takes several long steps back and away, casting a look to Viktor and Ran, each of them returning an equally dread filled gaze.

"Confirmed, something isn't right here. Fall back to secondary objectives, Throne, something isn't right with those Astarte. We leave now."

With that Tomas snatches up Ran to carry her, despite her protests, barking his orders to withdraw. The ad-hoc fireteam moves with all haste from the chamber with a vigor only borne by those being harried by the very hounds of hell as the twisting and rippling causeway to the hellish realm audible shatters the barrier of reality pouring forth it's malice upon the doomed ship.


	5. Chapter 4 - A Distant Memory Unrecalled

**[[ \\\ ++ :: Beginning Scene Reconstruction :: ++ / ]]**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lt. Tomas Foley :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Playback :: ++ /**

"I could use some good news Gamma!"

Tomas pulls Ran closer to his chest to shield her as he rounds the corridors corner, the wall plating next to him, erupting in a storm of fragmentation and shrapnel as an autogun shot strikes a touch too close for comfort.

Tomas pushes himself, sprinting as swiftly as he could manage, still carrying the weakened form of Ran as he stole furtive glances over his shoulder. Much to his surprise, Viktor was far more nimble than one would imagine in his cumbersome void armor. As he still found the time here and there to release a storm of shells back down the corridor to dissuade the growing horde of menials and mutants that pursued them across the deck's width.

Nearly a dozen paces ahead of Tomas, Gamma ranged forward, her reflexes and aim inhuman as she snapped off shots at those that dared interrupt their withdrawal. Her voice crackles to life across the vox as she speaks up, unwinded and even as ever.

"Confirmed: We are approaching the bulkhead B-21, we have one more flight upward to scale and we will be nearly on top of the savior pod bay. Situation Update: The bridge is under threat, Commodore Terval is ordering for all crew to make ready for an emergency transition into real space."

This notion forced Tomas to swallow dryly, nothing ever good comes from hasty breaches from the Immaterial back into reality. He casts a look down at Ran, as he skids about one of the remaining corners, the dull roar of Viktor's rotor-cannon echoing still to remind him that the foe draws ever closer.

"Now would be a good time as ever for your Master to do whatever sort of plan she was cooking up. Gamma! When Viktor clears the bulkhead, lock it off, that should buy us some breathing room between us and them!"

Ran stares up at Tomas, worn and tired, as she tries to muster a bit of defiance at his remark, her gaze slipping over his shoulder as she spies the charging form of a beastial warp-twisted mutant collapse under a torrent of shells from the roaring rotor-cannon.

"Do you think I want to lay here like a welpling? No, my Master drew from my own strength to finalize her efforts, her works are unfolding as we speak."

Tomas stares ahead as he watches the threshold of the bulkhead drawing ever closer, the distance seemed agonizingly far as he threw the last bit of energy he had into his haste. He catches only a glimpse of the beckoning form of Gamma, who once noting that Foley had cleared the bulkhead, began to throw arcing bolts to cover Viktors final sprint. The heavy bulkhead hisses the doorway starting to cycle closed ponderously slow.

For a split second, Tomas was fearful the heavily armored voids-men wouldn't make it within an arm's length of the door, he was elated to be wrong however. The huffing form of the voids-men managed to reach the door, throwing through his rotor-cannon before he dove forward, clearing the sliding bulkhead and landing upon the deck in a shower of sparks and shrieking metal.

The heavy adamantine portal hisses closed, the heavy locks securing, as the corridor they stood within finally appeared empty. Only the dull hiss of faint machinery echoed within the industrial corridors walls, dull billowing clouds of chilled air wisps from conduits on the right hand side of the wall, opposite it resides a vast and expansive viewport, that stared off into the churning and ceaseless immaterial sea they were trapped within.

Gamma took a brief moment to walk alongside the gently smoldering form of Viktor, a bionic hand reaching forth to help him up.

"Admirable: Excellent leap Voids-Men Viktor, my logic engines had given you a 20% chance of escaping."

Viktors visor hisses and slides upward, his displeased face staring squarely back at Gamma as he takes her offered hand.

"Feh, not the first time Viktor has had to clear the closing bulkhead, at least this wasn't a reactor leak. Those runs are not ones I would like to repeat. Come then cog-women, help me clear jam in the second feed drum, I think I landed on it incorrectly."

Gamma moves aside, starting to diagnose and troubleshoot the rotor-cannons feed system, as Tomas moves aside, and leans against the wall to catch his breath. Ran squirms and indicates her intent to stand, to which he obliges. She provides an indignant huff, as she brushes shrapnel and broken shell fragments from herself

"Mhmm, I can stand now, thank you Lieutenant. I… Am however grateful for not leaving me down there, I am indebted to you."

Tomas leaned down, placing his hands on his knee guards, the lack of sleep, compounded on the ebbing adrenaline rush had finally struck him like a thunder hammer. He shakes his head, and motions to Ran.

"I wouldn't just leave you, you might be with a shady employer, but at least you're on our side. At least you had better be, I don't really feel like trading blows with you now, we can pick another time and date if you're so apt."

She sighs, giving a facetious half smile, as she moves to the view-ports edge, leaning on a handrail whilst she stares out at the churning and dancing scarlet waves and shrouds that ebb in the realm of abject madness.

"Not too keen myself Lieutenant. I think working together is just fine enough for me. Though I do apologize for remaining so… elusive with the answers to your questions. I confess, this is one of the first times in a century that I've spent time among humans of your nature, let alone warriors for that matter. I do apologize if I seem, less that familiar with the way this dynamic works."

_For a spire-dweller, she ain't half bad in a scrap, bit clueless but she's got guts …._

Tomas chuckles breathlessly and rises from his doubled over state, moving alongside Ran, he slaps his gauntleted hand down on her shoulder.

"Yeah, well it's not really your fault, those spire-nobles you've been playing nurse-maid to, didn't really do you any favors. You have a good head on you, just keep your head down and you will be fine. Though you're going to have to explain how this whole connection business works with you and your Master, not to mention that stunt with the empty las-pistol of yours. Any insight into her plans at this point would be Throne sent at this point. "

Ran furrows her brow uneasily, her eyes failing to meet Tomas' own as she fidgets uneasily, a long uneasy moment settling between the two before she speaks up.

"I had meant to tell you, back when we first met, if we had been given a moment to sit down and actually discuss the arrangement my Master had for you and your friends. It seems that forces beyond our own are conspiring to deny you that information. I am not certain you are ready for such, there are so many … " her gaze moves back to meet his own, bearing what appeared to be a pang of pity, "... risks involved with disclosure, I've not had the chance to calculate or observe your reaction or theorize on your possible reaction to such. Though I am committed to providing answers. When the time is right. As for happened back there with the weapon how-"

That shimmer, that telltale flicker of golden hued light within her eyes. Tomas furrows his brow in confusion as Ran suddenly drops her sentence mid-syllable. Her gaze drawn back to the armored viewport and the churning immaterial sea beyond. Her silence drags on, as Tomas moves to wave his hand before her face, a baffled look upon his face.

"Aye? You were saying something about your master, something cryptic about the weapon?"

"There is no need, look."

Tomas throws a swift glance to the window, beyond it he spies near half a dozen troubled forms, the vast from great and hulking troop-ships to the smallest of destroyer escort bogged down and ensnared within the madding eddies and churning multispectral tendrils of the Immaterial. The very sight of the immaterium unsettled him, a dull sickness kicking him square in the gut as he narrows his gaze, trying to pick out individual ship forms.

One of the escort destroyers along the leading edge of the bedraggled line of ships is completely aflame. Great gouts of brilliant orange and yellow fire erupt from her inner workings, her viewports blazing brightly as she pitches and rolls to starboard, the wounded destroyer slowly and tragically succumbing like a beast to it's wounds.

A stark discharge of violet light along the visible spectrum erupts below the stricken destroyer, the Immaterium itself reels and withdraws from the bedraggled ship. Foley stares in muted terror as a titanic and immeasurably sized wound appears within the churning sea sea of the Immaterium before the wounded escort. The shimmering violet and midnight black boundary widens slowly as it moves to envelop the destroyer. This strange door-way yawns wide before them into a perfect and midnight realm, dozens of unblinking static eyes staring at the seemingly doomed warship slowly sinks within it's open embrace.

The vast shimmering _sukima _almost gingerly draws down the stricken ship as it seems to plummet into this unnatural inky void. Once the ship vanished from sight, the vast portal snapped shut as quickly as it came. The raw energy of the Immaterial, surges forth to reclaim its place but finds not it's prize. Thus denied, the immaterial sea simply rages and roils furiously, denied it's prize.

Words could not describe what the simple Lieutenant was thinking at this moment, the sight of such a venerable and powerful warship in His service, simply vanishing left him pale and white knuckled upon the railing. He calls out, his tone firm, fighting to find the words.

"Him on Earth . . . The hell did they go? Gamma! What in Terra's name just happened over there."

Gamma, by this point had finished her work with Viktor, his rotor-cannon cycling as the duo arrived at the viewport just in time to see the sukima consume the destroyer. The Skitarii stands unmoving, the furious clicking and hisses within her form indicated her engines were swift at work.

"Analyzing: The destroyer escort, _Lucid Fath_, appears to have lost control of it's engineering and was ablaze, she was doomed. That object that appeared seemed to resemble an exit-point into real-space, however it did not match any known signature I have data for. Nor could the stricken escort have been able to muster the energy to make it's own, given it's extensive damage. However: I have insufficient data to report officially on the nature of what occured. As it stands, the _Lucid Faith_ is lost to us.``

Viktor stares out mutely, his visor locked back as he dourly watches the scene before him. His attention is ensnared as he indicates out towards the other struggling vessels of the Flotilla, dull anger rising in his tone,

"Look there! More of these monsters open upon our fleet! In all my decades, never has Viktor seen breaches in immaterium like this! This is not the work of blessed warp-drive! No! It seems like monsters try to consume us!"

Once more the Lieutenant casts his gaze beyond the windows threshold, he'd spy similar _sukima _opening all around the panicked fleet, the twisted and broken gaze of hundreds of static faux eyes seemed to stare into the souls of the wayward vessels unerringly. One by one, the near half dozen ships glide forth like ships sailing over the world's edge into the yawning gaps.

One of the nearest ships, the venerable Mechancius cruiser, _Machina Interregnum_, springs to life as it engages heavy retro-grade thrusters, kicking itself away from a yawning _sukima_ before it, the vast bulk of the vessel moves aside the gateway, before a far larger one winks into existence below it. The vast cruisers form suddenly lurches to a halt, before plummeting downward in free-fall. As suddenly as they came the _sukima _silently slid closed after the ancient vessel disappeared within its inky abyss.

Gamma brings up an armored fist, bringing it harshly against the viewports frame, as a string of binary grief escapes her, for a long moment, the corridor falls quiet.

Tomas turns once more to Ran, a budding mote of fear welling in his gut as he barely can manage to raise his voice above a hoarse whisper.

"This better be your Master's work."

Ran meets his gaze, a surprising calm upon her, as she flashes another of her half smiles.

"Do not be afraid, my Master now struggles to save us all from this nightmare."

Light flutters upward upon the armored viewport, the quartet's gaze is ensnared and drawn down below the ship's mass as they watch in disbelief, as the tendrils of the immaterial withdraw from their own vessel. For a singular moment, the vessel drifts serenely amid the chaotic storms of the Warp, unfettered and free.

However, far below the ship's freeboard another of the titanic _sukima _works to manifest itself. Slowly, across the canvas of the Immaterial, a fine line is drawn before this mark upon the Warp opens forth into a looming void. Down far deep within this gap, did those unblinking eyes hold silent court over the vessel's fate. Like an ungainly beast perches uneasily, the hulking form of their vessel surrenders to the drawing force of this void, as the sudden feeling of acceleration blooms within their guts as the sensation of speed builds.

The heavy clank of the mag-tread boots from Gamma and Viktor jar the Lieutenant back into the moment,as the voice of Gamma flatly and matter of factly,

"Warning instructions to be relayed: Anomalous gravitational distortion in effect, the ships gravity system will take some time to compensate, brace yourself "

The warning came too late, as sudden forces of gravity caused the hulking cruiser to drop like a stone. Tomas watches as the scarlet and rose waves of the Immaterial flew past the window at dizzying speeds. He reacted from the gut, reaching around Ran and anchoring himself and her to the railing that ran along the side of the corridor. He'd feel the kick of weight-less once more, unmistakably as if he'd leaped out of one of the Valkyries for a high altitude jump.

Faintly above the distant squeal and labored groan of the ancient ships hull, he could hear the dull and soft clicking prayers from Gamma, all the while Viktor blazes speedily through every curse a mortal could muster before he begins inventing his own.

The scene outside the viewport shifts not unlike dusk to dawn, the unending black and mottled hue of the abyss of which they had fallen, vanish away as the blinding light of a star fills the corridor. The sudden and stark change forces Tomas to blink and glance away till his eyes adjusted to the natural light. When he gazed forth once more back out the viewport, the scene before him was certainly the last possible thing he could have expected.

Beyond the cracked armor of the view-port he could spy the certainly a distinct curve, betraying the presence of the planetary body of which they now hurtled down towards. The vast expanse of this realm was bright and vibrant green, with specks of bright and luminous colors. Vast flora and dense tree canopies of green stretched for miles all around, with only the vaguest hint of deep azure betraying the presence of naturally occuring deep pristine lake and river tributaries that flow from them.

Blazing brightly in the distance between the cusp of day and night as two celestial bodies turn, the first them a warm and yellow hued star who's gentle rays caresses the face of the Lieutenant as he peered through the viewport.

As the realm below turned slowly to night, caught between this soft twilight, a single lunar body of pure silver, pock-marked with impact crates, graciously moved to take the place of the solar body as they graciously traded places with one another far above a pristine blue sky.

Ran grows elated, a look of awe plastered upon her face as she stares out at the world before them, her own hushed tone audible only to that of Tomas.

"I've never seen it from up here before, it's … "

Her words are cut off as the entire vessel shakes violently, the gravity compensating for the presence of planetary gravitational forces. The pair of Ran and Tomas are thrown down upon the deck, with the poor Lieutenant receiving an elbow to his face and a sizable bruise from Ran's inelegant flailing.

Tomas manages to haul Ran off him, a touch worse for wear as his stitches upon his temple have opened up once more. Uneasily, he gets to his feet, staring out the viewport at the rising world below the vessel.

"Throne, where the hell are we? That looks a bit too vibrant to be our dropsite."

Ran pushes herself upright, dusting herself off, as she indicates towards the world below, a pleased tone in her voice.

"That is our destination. It would be wise if we make haste; however, as I know not how long your vessel will continue it's losing struggle against the pull of the realm below."

Gamma toggles her mag-boots, her antenna rising once more from her power pack as she goes utterly silent.

"Priority Traffic: Senior staff have evacuated aboard savior pods two decks above us. Menials control several decks in all directions, Commodore Terval has sealed himself within the bridge and has ordered all hands to abandon ship…" She pauses for a brief moment, before uttering "... He intends to take the vessel down manually, to try and preserve as much equipment as possible for recovery by loyalist forces."

Viktor stares impassively, his voice hissing as he laments.

"Crazy old man, the best commander I ever served under. There will be much sorrow, but we cannot let this chance go to waste, no? Abandon ship, means we take savior pods and head planetside. Get away from traitors and find more ammunition for rotor-cannon, yes?"

Caught in the vice of conflicting ideas, Tomas wipes the thin lines of blood from his face, staring at the trio before him. Truly, if the ship was so far gone, the only viable option would be to withdraw and regroup. Though the thought pained him, retreat in the face of the foe is what got them into this situation in the first place.

_There has to be some order to this withdrawal …._

"Aye, Gamma? Was there any lingering orders from the upper officers? Anything on the vox?"

Gamma stares on impassively, eyes dimming before she flickers back to life.

"Negative: Vox network is still swamped with scrap-code and poor discipline. Major Bruma gave coded instruction to his unit, in alignment with the Commodore's orders. Commissar Bulgraff has begun the evacuation of Ichorous V's guardsmen as well. The Magos has refused thus far to broadcast over open channels, the Noosphere is in a similar state. It appears they are fleeing with no pre-selected destination in mind."

_Miserable, our sorry lot is counting on me to get them through, and I don't even have reliable data to make calls from._

Tomas turns to face the world below, watching as tiny pin-pricks of light leap from the bedraggled vessels sinking into its gravity well, as the battlegroup commences it's flight from the doomed fleet. His temple started to throb once more, a dull ache spreading over his head as he wracked his mind, however the only solution remained clear.

"Alright, then we make for the pods, and get groundside, our first object should be to get back into contact with the command structure. From what Gamma says, it sounds like they intend to set up some measure of organization once they reach the groundside. No reason for us to remain aboard with traitors and -"

His words are cut short, as a dull whine fills the room, a sudden violent impact rocking the heavy bulkhead to the frame. The quartet turn in time to spy the heavy adamantine bulkhead, warp and deform under some thunderous blow, a hail of spalling and sparking energy rupturing the doorway. A brief moment later, another thunderous strike impacts the door, this time a heavy object punching through the weakened bulkhead.

Emerging from the breach, was a titanic dull gunmetal fist emblazoned with alternating black and yellow hazard stripes, writhed in a crackling energy field. The vast inhumanly large power fist was suited to only that of the inhuman Astarte merely flexs, withdrawing with the horrific shriek of rending metal as it thrashed and tore the heavy barrier asunder.

Needing no further prompting, Tomas gestures down the corridor, barking his order as he starts to pick back up into a run.

"Savior pods! Now!"

The trio fall briskly into line with his path forward, the group fleeing away from the mangled and rapidly being torn asunder doorway at their back. They rapidly ascend the remaining flight of stairs, racing for the promised and perceived safety of the savior pod chamber. Terrifyingly, each boot step up the lengthy stairwell, only seemed to ring in time with the horrible squeal of bowing steel as the door behind them finally relented to the assault.

A physical relief struck the Lieutenant as the group managed to clear the final bulk-head, finding the savior pod's all neatly in their berths, and the room entirely untouched by the fighting. Far at their back however, a dull ring of steel on steel only built as lumbering bootsteps announced the coming dread, all the while Gamma hastily worked to lock down and seal the final barrier.

Viktor stares down the corridor, thick beads of sweat rolling down his brow as he keeps his rotor-cannon fixed at the end, his voice thick with a budding dread.

"Anytime Skitarii! Monster of ceramite is chasing us! Would be as good a time as any to lock the door now!"

Gamma rapidly connects her data-inlinks to the heavy doorways control terminal, eyes flashing to and fro as she pours over lines of data. The barest hint of terror ebbing across the normally unreadable and flat tone of hers.

"Attempting: Scrap-code infection making isolating bulkhead controls difficult, the machine spirit wails in agony. Something horrific is transpiring to the poor spirit of this vessel."

Tomas keeps his rifle leveled at the end of the corridor, Ran swiftly moves away from the trio barring the door. Her path takes her to the nearest of the savior pods, clambering within as she uneasily tries to discern what was inside the savior pod and how it functioned.

After several agonizing moments, the heavy bulkhead sparks and grinds slowly closed. The heavy door-panels move to lock and seal as Gamma pulls herself away from the console, visibly unsettled as she coils in her data-jacks. Her gaze falling squarely on Tomas and Viktor.

"Situation: Dire, large sections of the vessel are suffering from infection, the very spirit of countless machines have been subverted and poisoned against us. We must vacate this vessel at once."

Viktor watches as the heavy doorway hisses closed, heavy locks sealing it closed, his tone ragged and breathless as he motions with the tip of his rotor cannon towards the pods.

"Well don't just stand around, go! Board ships! Let us go!"

Needing no further promptly, the trio make for the nearest pod, finding Ran having already sat herself down as she struggles to figure out how the crash-harnesses locking mechanism worked. Viktor pushes ahead of the boarding passengers, heading for the control suite, pausing only to carefully stow his rotor cannon into one of the jump-seats, pausing a hairsbreadth of time only to lock his weapon securely.

Shortly before he practically threw himself into the control throne, which pivoted with a groan and brought him to the controls. Gamma calls up to him as she enters the vessel and finds herself a seat, pulling down her crash harness.

"Deck Officer Viktor, are you blessed to operate such a holy vehicle? Do you know what the controls allow you to do?"

His armored gauntlet emerged from behind the heavy operator's throne, waving off her concern, as the vox clicked alive his tone bearing a thick tone of faux confidence.

"Bah! Quiet cog-girl! Viktor was trained rigorously on the operation if the pilot did not make it to the escape bay! Have faith! … " He lowers his voice, the dull clatter of controls being tested ambient as his vox catches his muffled words. "... at least I think, It's been a few years but it's all the same, yes. I think this makes it go."

Gamma merely turns to Tomas, who was busy wrangling Ran fully into her own crash harness, getting it locked down as she tries not to get in his way.

"I will revise my projections of our survival, they will be lower."

Tomas feels the satisfying clank of Ran's crash harness locking down firmly, he gives her shoulder a solid slap aiming to reassure her, before wheeling about in the crowded foot-space, heading back for the rear of the pod, raising a finger in warning as he passes Gamma.

"Don't start, no numbers and no counting, let the Voystran fly the damn thing. If we actually land alive, feel free to let him have the full brunt of your sarcasm engine."

Gamma just tilts her head as he passes her by retorting matter of factly, watching as the Lieutenant starts to fiddle with the boarding hatches controls.

"Correction: There is no such device as a sarcasm engine. Unless Magos are blessed with such, we Skitarii do not receive such. Addendum: I am attempting to be sarcastic."

Tomas shakes his head as the air-lock starts cycling, the pods door starting to hiss closed, he throws back a glance to Gamma, giving her flat unamused look. Her reply is merely to mime a smile with her fingertips upon her solemn silver death-mask.

He wheezes as he internalizes his agony from Skitarii's exchange, turning about just in time to spy the sealed door into the savior pod chamber, erupt into heavy and shattered fragments that embed themselves upon the opposite wall.

The heavy blast door is hurled inward, the heavy panels are pushed inward by an oversized sparking fist. Emerging into the chamber was a figure straight out of the horror tales they'd weave in the mess hall. A towering and hulking gunmetal steel form hauls it's way into the chamber. Clad head to boot in ancient and carbon scored Astarte plate bearing a heraldry of hazard-stripes, the ancient uparmored mark bore several interlocking plates that lay atop their armor. The massive figure turns a crimson glowing T slit visor towards the open pods exit, pulling themselves into the chamber with a groan of plasteel. The ceramite monster casually flexes it's powerfist, advancing towards the open pod, a vox grated voice not unlike a landslide in motion issuing forth that chilled Tomas to the bone.

"Lap dogs of Terra, your flight is needless, come forth and report to your new Master ."

Tomas, feels paralyized for far too many heartbeats, his world almost as if in slow motion as he stares at the display, as it works to complete it's pressurization cycle test. His jaw is agape as he watches the display indicating it has completed it's run, a glowing button awaiting him.

As the back of his fist races for the door, he yells into his vox, eyes staring at the crimson visor, his own terrified face reflected back at him.

"Brace! We are launching Now!"

Viktor's vox clicked, clearly preparing some measure of retort, nearly interjecting but he was cut short without a second of hesitation as Tomas rams his fist against the display, striking the input. The heavy pods door drops as it's shielded hatch slams down and locks firmly. The vessel violently bucks as the explosive bolts holding it into position kick the pod free from it's berth. The savior pod bucks heavily, rocking as it starts its descent the upper reaches of the atmosphere starting to buffet it's frame causing the pod to rock violently.

Tomas just barely manages to clamber over several of the seats, whilst partially pushed against the ceiling of the pod from the sudden forces, his hands grasping hold of a seat near the end of the row.

With all the effort he can muster, he hauls himself into the seat, struggling as he battles with the crash-harness' lock. As the heavy bracer bar slams closed over him, the speed kicks in the gut as he feels the world collapse below him as they plummet, the violent g-forces causing Tomas' own vision to grey. Shortly before he slips into unconsciousness, the distant voice of Viktor is the last thing he hears.

"Too soon! Not ready! Pray friends, pray to Him on Earth that he might catch us as we fall from his blessed vessel! Pray as our lives depend on His mercy!"

With that the tiny savior pod starts it's path across the quiet evening sky, it's burning trail like a shooting star to those far below as it races across the inky black of the depth of night.


	6. Chapter 5 - An Encounter out of Time

**[[ \\\ ++ :: Beginning Scene Reconstruction :: ++ / ]]**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lt. Tomas Foley :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Playback :: ++ /**

The swirling darkness churns before Tomas as he feels weightless and floating within an endless void, the embrace of unawareness and unconsciousness eddy about him like waves upon the shore, gently rolling over him bereft of his worries or cares. Such was interrupted as a sensation crawled across his body as he felt his fingers twitch reflexively, cold pinpricks of dull throbbing pain wash across his back.

With his senses resolving around him Tomas could vaguely feel the gentle cool of the evening air upon his form, his breath drawing in the chilling air, feeling it tinge his core with a dull chilled tone. His nostrils catch the scent of faint smoldering embers, burning away dutifully as the air was thick with a noxious scent of superheated alloy. Faintly the world's ambiance returned, the dull ping and creak of cooling metals all around him, as he blearily opened his eyes.

At first his gaze was merely awash with colors, bright starbursts of light and color that forced him to shut his eyes, turning away his gaze till the unclear and indistinct image resolved itself. He seemed to have remained where he was seated, far near the end of the pod with his crash harness still locked about him.

His eyes move about, taking in the slowly focusing scene about him, before he spies the figure of Ran seated opposite him. Slowly as her form resolved into view, he was forced to blink several times as he tried to focus on her, as something of her had changed.

Nestled among her golden hair, stood forth two tall vulpine ears, twitching impatiently as she watched over the unconscious form of the Lieutenant. She was no longer garbed in her armored glove, nay twas something more akin a lengthy flowing dress of soft azure and pristine whites. The form of Ran was sitting among a throng of long bushy tails, the colors not dissimilar to that of her hair, his darting eyes easily catching sight of no less than nine of these bushy vulpine tails. The way the faint moon light gleamed from her overly keen gaze left him uneasy, a churning of discomfort within his gut as he felt he was being spied upon by a predator far more adept at blending with it's prey than he'd ever have suspected.

Tomas mutely watches as Ran rises from her seated position, leaning over to take hold of his face, peering down at him and into his eyes, her own unerring gaze shimmering faintly from the faint moonlight ebbing through the broken hatchway beside them. She leans back, and with blinding speed, soundly brings her palm against the Lieutenant's face with a solid smack to his face.

Tomas is jolted awake by the spreading fire across his face, he leaps up against his harness and gives an angered shout of pain, before settling back down into his seat. His sorely aching frame protests as he shakes his head staring agitatedly at Ran as she remains apologetic, hands up placatingly.

Most curiously however, the tails and ears were strangely absent now that his focus and awareness had returned to him, a strange sight that struck him uneasily none the less, as Ran speaks up in a worried tone.

"Sorry Lieutenant, I was worried you had suffered some form of disorientation, your eyes held a strange look to them, are you feeling well?"

Tomas rises, unlatching his crash harness, all while rubbing his face and the smarting mark left by her strike.

"Hell, you could have just shook me. But aye, I am somewhat well, what happened? Did we manage to make it planetside in one piece? Or are you here to ferry me to the Emperor's side?"

Ran gives a sly grin, rising from her seated position to move to the savior pod's hatchway, indicating towards Foley and the upper portion of the pod.

"Not yet Lieutenant, I volunteered to stay behind and see if you were going to awaken from the comatose stupor you were trapped within. The other two, Gamma and Viktor are searching out the area, trying to find any other savior pods that came down in our general area. From what I understand, Gamma made mention that she has some sort of track on a vox unit that would let us call for aid from the transport ships that managed to escape our vessel."

Groggily he rises to his boots, placing a hand on his head to steady the wobbling world, before his gaze falls once more on Ran, backlit by the moonlight with that uneasy shimmer to her eyes once more.

"Aye, so I am assuming that everyone else got out well enough? No injuries for the other two or yourself?"

Ran merely shakes her head,

"None it would seem, Gamma reported minor inconveniences to her frame, and Viktor whined about not having proper food supplies, but I feel we will be fine. I am familiar with this realm and can guide you and the others to sources of supply."

She offers him a steady hand as they both depart the pod, the battered and smoking form of which has come to rest in a muddy creek. Around them slopped stout muddy embankments on either side, looming hung high overhead.

The towering trees' dense canopy barely contained the bright silver light from the lunar body that hung over the muddy gully they found himself in. With a shaky hand he clasps Ran's hand and hauls himself from the savior pods wreck, all whilst scanning the length of the creek, trying to come to terms with the uneasy peace the scene contrasted with the mangled pod's wreck.

Tomas is given pause however, as he casts a wary look once more to Ran, her words and strange tranquility in this alien land, unsettling him.

"Familiar with this world? How so? Is your home similar to this one or something?"

Ran gingerly leads him from the wreck, the pair of them moving down the shallow stream, their boots splashing quietly as they stroll forth in search of their compatriots.

"I have lived on and travelled this realm and it's roads for quite some time, my Mistress has a large hand in governing it's affairs. We are most fortunate to have found ourselves here"

Tomas pauses, his boot steps kicking up the loose creek bed as he gazes upward, unfamiliar with the stars and their alignment in the sky. His gaze slowly settles on Ran as she moves off further down the stream.

_Something clearly isn't adding up here, she seems a bit too in touch with what's around her, in addition what was that I saw in the pod? Something is toying with me, I just can't put my finger on it. _

"So, what are the basics of this world, anything I need to keep an eye out for?"

The pair haul themselves up the earthen rise, Ran leaning down to offer Tomas a hand as she pulls him to her side, indicating into the densely packed forest before them.

"Yes, there are particular oddities that exist, ones it would be apt to familiarize yourself with. The most dangerous, to your and your men, is that of the _Youkai_. A creature that appears in the guise of man, but bears oddities that mark them as different from humanity, not to mention their ability to conjure powers and bend them to their will. This place was forged as a sanctuary for them, a haven of sorts in which they could shelter."

Tomas shoots her a quizzical look, moving alongside her as the pair start their walk into the forest, the dull wind causing the timber to groan softly.

"Not sure I follow, are you saying that there is a creature in this world that can take the shape of humans? Are you implying they are psykers? This world's atmosphere is breathable and seems fairly verdant, this could have been a budding human colony, are these Youkai a threat to the wider sector?"

Moving past a sizable fallen tree trunk, Ran spares him a glance, a stoic look upon her face forewarning her reply.

"They are beings, a type of animus, that found an anchor in this world, a strange relic from mankind's past. They pose no threat to your Imperium or the galaxy at large, they merely remain within this realm, content to be left to their own devices. Psyker, as you say, is an incorrect description. As their powers are not drawn directly from the Immaterial, nor are their souls bound to such. They are as much a part of this world as the trees and natural life around us."

Ran flashes him a smile, clearly trying to put him at ease, but the gesture leaves him modestly unsettled as he mulls over her words as she continues.

"As for humans? There are those that exist here, they dwell in primitive communes, somewhat more insular and backwater than anything you're used to. There is a mutualism between the Youkai and the humans, they need one another to continue their existence in this realm and as such, peace is maintained. "

Tomas puzzles for a moment, eyes narrowing, something not adding up with this explanation.

" Something just doesn't sit right with me, why would a colony ever need anything less than pure strain humans to survive? It boggles the mind to know that someone could harbor sympathies for creatures that impersonate the human form."

Ran casts him a glance, a sudden tinge of anger or perhaps disappointment ready in her voice, she does however maintain her trek with the Lieutenant in tow.

"The Youkai here are not as you say, they fall squarely within Imperial defined designations as abhumans, as they grow reliant on humanity for their survival and melded to better acclimate to such.. As time moved on, the Youkai who came to dwell with humanity have begun to take on human traits even reflecting such with their own appearance. As your Commodore said, human lives are a currency, for the Emperor. That includes abhumans in equal measure, as even their works can bring glory to your Master on Earth. Waste not, want not is how I see this."

Slowing to a halt, Tomas gingerly reaches forth, ensnaring the crook of her elbow, as he wheels her around. Internally he warred with the concepts, he felt a mix of disgust at the more lax concept of humanity Ran was suggesting, as it contrasted with several core tenants of the Imperial Creed.

Yet at the same time he personally harbored no real personal loathing for abhuman creatures, as Bulgraff's regiment had made liberal use of Orgyn auxiliaries during the war on Ichorus V. Their strength and steadfast loyalty had saved entire fronts from collapse. He softens his tone as he inclines his head to her once more,

"Alright, I'll give you that one, it just doesn't sit right with me. I mean the Imperial law is fairly unambiguous on it's definition of humanity and what deviances are condoned. Though, I suppose I would be remiss to discredit the honor I've seen abhumans win for His glory as well."

He searches her face, while gently loosening the grip on her arm as she stands by, his own mind flashing back to what he half remembered from the pod, the odd ability she displayed on the ship.

" I just have to know, back on the ship. The whole eye shimmer thing, and when I was still partially out of it back there in the pod, Are you one of these… " He trails off as he stares at her face, the look in her eyes almost imploring him not to continue this line of inquiry for their sake. Inwardly he relents, playing the diplomat as he shifts the topic as a mercy to her. "... Alright, I just need to know you on our side, through and through. We are a team now, aye? If I am going to watch your back, I need to know you have got mine."

For several long moments Ran watches him, her lips quivering, her face betraying the presence of secrets she seemed to be keeping from him. Her eyes dart to and fro as she clearly mulls over her wordless thoughts. She resolves herself and reaches over to slap a firm clasp on Tomas's shoulder guard, a half smile on her face.

"As I said Lieutenant, I will see you and your compatriots to safety. My word is my oath, and I am never one to shirk from a promise. I shall count myself as one among your number till our task is complete, to whatever end."

Tomas flashes her a mirrored half grin, miming the action as they clasped one another's shoulders as equals bound by their respective oaths. There were far too many questions left hanging as thus far she had remained elusive of his inquiries. However, he knew full well that he didn't have the luxury of squandering friendly faces in this strange and alien realm.

He raises a hand, words on his lips before his Vox hisses sharply and suddenly. The static laced voice of Viktor ebbing over the comm-network.

"Oi! Lieutenant? Are you alive yet? If you can hear me, make your way southeast of the savior pod, we have located what looks to be an abandoned encampment. Gamma is trying to get a vox-caster unit up and running, over."

With a firm nod to Ran, Tomas quickly keys up his vox bead, responding with a relieved tone, pleased to hear the boisterous voice of the Voids-men once more.

"Copy that Viktor, I am up and mobile, in route to your position. Have you seen anything yet? Anything out of the ordinary?"

The vox crackles with a static laced hiss, as Viktor's voice waivers slightly, an uneasy present and permeating his tone.

"Uhh, aye Lieutenant, there is movement on the edge of the glade, can't pin down what it is. Viktor is not really interested in climbing in bushes to find out either, he was born on a spaceship, big plants freak him out already. Also Gamma has been babbling some nonsense about the strange trees that surround this area, but to Viktor, all trees are strange. Would be nice for you to tell her to calm down and stop being so jumpy."

Tomas exchanges a look with Ran, who mirrors his own look of concern as she listens in with her own vox-bead, wordlessly the two pick up their pace as he queues up his vox again.

"She is a Skitarii Viktor, she is picking up on something you aren't registering, the clockwork soldiers don't just get jumpy because of nerves. We are on route, just get that vox-caster up and working, or move it if you can. Keep your head on a swivel, Foley out."

The pair of them pick up their pace, as they blaze through the dense foliage and underbrush that slowed and bloated their trail. Ran had honed in on the path the searching party had taken and guides Tomas across winding dirt paths that twist and turn, as she leads them with all haste to the outer edge of the aforementioned glade.

The duo's progress halted as they came to rest in a shallow depression along the leading edge of a fairly wide clearing. The open area before them was crudely cleared, dense foliage hanging heavily around the outermost edge of the tall grass that easily stood to the waist and higher.

Far overhead the midnight sky was blotted out by conical alien structures that appeared like vast silver spikes, each of them bearing gnarled pale branches that stretched overhead, forming an imposing veil over the glade below. The moon's indistinct silver-light from on high filtering down in soft beams that barely allowed for one with unaugmented vision make out the estranged stone-like composition of these many alien spires that rose far overhead in a dense clutch in this otherwise normal temperate forest.

Standing off on the far edge from Tomas and Ran, were the forms of Gamma and Viktor. The Skitarii was knelt down, rapidly working to repair a sizable and heavy squad-vox array that bore terrible damage to it's outer frame. All while Viktor played protector to Gamma, watching the glades edge with his heavy suits hissing, inbuilt luminators sweeping to and fro, rotor cannon at the ready.

As Tomas rose slightly from the slight depression that he and Ran were sheltering in, he found themself thrown down into the mud. As he casts his gaze indignantly back, he finds Ran laying atop his back, miming an order for him to remain silent. She indicates to the far side of the glade, her head lowered to the Lieutenant's ear as she replies in a terse and whispered warning.

"Stay down! They are being hunted. If we don't approach this carefully we too will find ourselves targeted."

Tomas growls softly, lifting his helmeted head up enough to push Ran back slightly, allowing him to get a good look at the direction she was indicating. His eyes failed to make out any shapes or movement in the deep shadows.

"What in His name, are you talking about? There isn't anything over there, I can't see anything but shadow and shrub."

Ran indicates onces more, drawing his attention to one of the tall silver spires. Just beyond it in the shadow of a considerably large clump of the dull greens of the brush, he spied a flash of stark white cloth like hue that shifted. He narrows his gaze as he watches the movement slowly slide it's way forward, to the outermost limit of the glade. Viktor had yet to spy it as he swept his thrumming luminator beams over the strange structures. His focus was so caught up in the strange alien growth, he failed to notice as a slight figure skulked from the brush to his right in his blind spot.

Tomas watches as the slight figure slides into view, appearing human from this distance. Their attire was a simple white blouse, paired with a dull azure bloomer, all whilst veiled in a black cloak that half obscured their slight form. From what he could make out from the messy short cropped mop of beryl hair, the figures' facial features belied a delicate feminine shape, for all intents she seemed human, save for two dull black antennae that twitched from her head. Strangely though, the slowly approaching figure seemed to be followed diligently by a gently floating clutch of small faintly glowing insects that dance in her trail.

Foley, spares a glance back to Ran, confusion plain at her reaction to such an unassuming figure, his tone low.

"Yeah? It's just a little girl with bugs, I don't suspect a native would be too familiar with Imperial agents here, so she is checking them out. Is this really what you got worked up over?"

Ran stares down at him, that familiar shimmer ebbing in her eyes as she locks her gaze solely on the slight figure that stalked towards Viktor.

"No Lieutenant,_ that_ is a Youkai. I told you that they appear as humans. This one is a minor one, though we must not underestimate their ability, it more than likely is investigating it's territory as we must have landed in it's hunting grounds. If we leave it will pose us no threat, not with me in your company."

Before Tomas could respond, his gaze is drawn to the crouched form of Gamma, the Skitarii's head glances aside and catches sight of the slight figure creeping up on Viktor. In one clear movement, she rises from her kneeling state, her galvanic rifle snatched from its resting place beside her and leveled at the small figure, her synthetic voice hissing a flat warning.

"Alert: Unknown contact has breached our overwatch: Any closer and you will be designated as hostile. Termination will follow. Identify yourself and state your intent."

Viktor visibly flinches and snaps his whirring weapon's aim to target the small figure, who merely comes to a halt. Sparing a glance between the two as the little girl seemed unable or unwilling to comprehend the mortal danger she is in. She ceases moving and speaks up to the pair, her curious words caught by Viktor's unintendedly open vox channel and relayed directly into Ran and Tomas' vox-beads,

"Oh? Did I scare you? Huh, how strange. What are you two? I don't recognize you or the funny things you're carrying. Are you…. Perhaps humans, not from around these parts?"

Viktor toggles the spin-up of his rotor-cannon, the whirring barrels slowing and coming to a stop, yet he doesn't quite lower the weapon just yet.

"Eh? What is a little girl doing so far from the village? Are there other humans here in this world? We are from a large ship that fell from the sky, we are trying to find our friends! I am Viktor, this is Gamma, we are loyal soldiers of the Emperor of Earth! Come to rescue your people!"

Gamma curtly speaks up once more, a tinge of agitation in her voice as she scolds Viktor.

"Tactical Error: Do not advise the unidentified figure as to the status of our unit or our goals. We are at risk of revealing sensitive information. Unidentified abhuman: Identify yourself or be terminated."

The slight figure between them spares a look over between them both, the gentle swarm of faintly glowing fire-flies now gently ebbing over Viktor and Gamma as she speaks up with a still brewing look of curiosity in her tone.

"Oooo, so you're lost and humans from the outside! Today is my lucky day! Oh? Me? I am called Wriggle…" She adopts a haughty tone as she provides a scoffing laugh, as if speaking to uneducated swine. However her act doesn't come across as she had planned, appearing like a smug child bragging. "... Wriggle Nightbug, master of all things insect! I hope you both are ready to pay dearly for your trespassing! I don't suffer thieves lightly!"

Gamma spares a glance to Viktor, then levels her galvanic rifle at the haughty girl, her tone even in warning as she nods towards the heavy vox-caster laid up against the conical tree-like structure.

"Situation Update: We were unaware of this location's importance to you, we will withdraw with our vox caster and leave you to your own devices. We have no use for you or your bugs. Insects are a frivolous unnecessity."

Viktor meets Gamma's gaze, his open visor allowing several of the buzzing fire-flies to drift about into his face. He brushes them away, fighting back a sneeze as he speaks up once more.

"Aye, no need for getting angry. Viktor and his friend will leave you and your dirt piles alone, No need to get angry little queen of bugs! Hah! You speak such big talk for little one, make sure you tell your papa and mamma to remind you of manners when speaking to adults, yes?"

The slight form of Wriggles ripples at their words, her fists balled as she stares angeredly at the pair before them, she jabs a finger towards the vox-caster and half shouts her reply as her agitation visibly mounts.

"You can't take that! It's my thing! I found it and took it, so it's my property, you all dare to insult me! The nerve you two have! I am not a child, I am a Youkai! If you two keep this up, I am definitely going to end up eating you!"

Viktor gives a lazy laugh, waving her off as he moves to lower his rotor-cannons barrel, a chuckle escaping him as he jerks a thumb towards Wriggle, all whilst Gamma keeps her rifle aimed squarely at the lass' chest.

"Bah! Don't get too worked up there little one, come now Gamma we've more important duties to tend to, Tomas will be here soon. We must make sure Vox is working…." He pauses, one of the fireflies drifting in an erratic pattern moves forward to land upon his cheek, the wriggle of its legs agitating his beard causing him to twitch. With a single swift movement, he brings his open palm flat against his face, an audible crack and wet crunch echoing in the now dead silent glade… " It is really our property, now run along before we have to find parents, yes?"

Wriggle drops any pretense of haughty wordplay, the gently bobbing swarm of fire-flies come to an unnatural halt where they floated, the weight of their combined gaze on Viktor and Gamma visibly unsettling the pair. The only thing offered over by Wriggle was a cold and spiteful malice. Her tone was low, her clenched fists shaking.

"You… You killed that one. You're going to pay for that."

From Ran and Tomas' position at the far side of the glade, the duo could make out the form of the trees at Wriggle's back, shift and move as something gargantuan pushed through the trees and brush, the audible sound of cracking branches like autocannon fire. Without missing a beat, the pair spring to their feet and move into the glad, as Tomas shouts out to Gamma and Viktor, waving them away.

"Viktor! Gamma! Get the Vox-caster and get your arses back here! That thing isn't a human! We are bugging out now!"

Viktor and Gamma both spare a glance back towards Tomas before the trees ahead of them ripple and crack, a vast form loomed beneath their shade. As the pair slowly start to back away from the enraged form of Wriggle, a pair of lengthy silver-white talons hook themselves on a pair of trees, a carapace of such color shimmering beneath the pale moonlight.

The creature that hauled itself into the glade, stood easily outsizing even the hulking Leman Russ tank, as it brought itself into the glade upon eight long and hardened legs, their edges keen not unlike blades. The creature's hardened carapace appeared to be composed of a metallic-organic substance, that bore countless pit-marks and healed wounds not unlike that of what an Astartes bolter and blade could provide.

The terrifying xeno-creature looms over the quartet, a single pincered claws, reaching down and with an unnatural finesse and care, lightly plucks Wriggle from the field and positions her upon it's back thorax, shielded behind a heavy and wide chitin crest as it affixes it's many eyes upon the group with inhuman malice.

Tomas slowly herds the group, as Viktor and Gamma join its ranks, his tone is even as the group slowly backs away, weapons raised at the creature. He spares a glance to Ran, who stare on in pale faced shock.

"Uh, Ran if you got a card up your sleeve to talk this Youkai down, now is the time."

Ran does not break her gaze from the creature, her tone fearful as she manages to shuffle her way back near the group's rear.

"This is no Youkai."

Gamma levels her galvanic rifle, the thrumming coils hissing as a shrieking bolt of azur light erupts from the arcane weapon, the shot streaming across the distance to impact harmlessly upon the hardened carapace, a tiny furrow in the chitin her sole reward.

The Skitarii visibly flinches at the weapon's effect, her hands shaking slightly as she speaks up with as much urgency as she could muster in her artificial tone.

"Test Complete: Cross-referencing from Bio-Magos Suu'Van's data archive: Weapon impact data suggest this entity is one of the same with those that were reported to have destroyed the 140th Expeditionary Fleet on the world of Murder during the Great Crusade."

Tomas sharply counters,

"Speak in Gothic, Gamma. What is it?"

"Creature designation: Megarachnid hive-guard. Our unit has insufficient fire support to destroy this creature. Advised Course of Action: Withdraw."

Tomas stares up at the towering creature, it's mandibles flaring open in a shrieking cry as it lumbers towards them, shattering branches as it moves. Without need to provide orders, the quartet briskly turn heel in unison, sprinting forth into the brush as the shrieking creature gives chase to its prey. The hunt was on.


	7. Chapter 6 - Baptism of Flame and Steel

**[[ \\\ ++ :: Beginning Scene Reconstruction :: ++ / ]]**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lt. Tomas Foley :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Playback :: ++ /**

With all the energy he could muster in his tired frame, Tomas raced headlong towards through the winding narrow earthen path back towards the stream they had departed. His rapid haste kicks up a storm of mud and stones as he vaults a series of fallen tree trunks and low shrubs. At his side moved the nimble form of Ran, easily keeping pace whilst calling out for them to hurry their pace.

Further behind him, he could hear the hissing of Gamma's bionics as she kept up the brisk pace, upon her back the heavy vox caster clattering and clanking to announce it's presence to all around, destroying their chances at slipping away. At the groups tail end, wheezed and labored the form of Viktor, who blindly lets loose errant and unaimed burst from his rotor-cannon back towards the lumbering form of the megarachnid, the creatures hissing seeming to draw ever closer as they flee from it.

Tomas scans the horizon, spying the earth path before them branch off in several directions, inwardly he knew he had to get Gamma someplace where she could finish her repair work on the vox-caster. As overhead, he could spy through the breaks in the canopy that far in the sky the all too familiar contrails of Valkyries and Vultures that moved about on station.

A stifled curse escapes him, as he throws a glance over his shoulder, his vox flaring to life as he barks an order,

"Gamma, at this next path split, cut hard right and put as much distance as you can between us and the megarachnid. Viktor, I want you to wheel off left and check your damn fire, you're too heavy to keep up this pace. Ran, it's you and me, we carry on and draw the creature away. We gotta buy time for Gamma to get the vox-caster working, can you do that cog-girl?"

Gamma's voice curtly clips back as they reach the split in the path, the Skitarii wheeling off right with her unbroken bionic assisted pace leaving her to pull away from the group.

"Confirmed: I only need several moments to intone the litany of repair and then activation: Once I have roused it's machine spirit, I will link our vox net into the wider communication's array."

Without skipping a beat, Viktor pulls away from the group, his path sending him off away from Ran and Tomas as his vox clicks in response, the man half gargling his vox bead's mic as he half mumble-shouts his words.

"Yessir Lieutenant, Viktor too slow, will hold fire. Once the creature passes, I will double back and rally with Gamma to ensure Vox works right. May The Emperor bless you with all speed."

Tomas throws another glance over his shoulder, unholstering his hot-shot laspistol, he manages to squeeze off a few shots. The bright crimson bolts strike the creature's carapace, and leave only a carbon score upon it's metallic-chitin hide. However, Ran mirrors him, releasing several of those golden bolts from her archaic pistol, the combined annoying flea bites from their shots appeared to be more than enough to goad the creature into giving chase to the pair.

With the foliage flying by them, it stood as a stark surprise when they cleared the tree-line, emerging into the creek-bed. Without missing a step, the pair slide down the muddy embankment, carrying on their rush, as large shattered branches are cast past them, their forms smashing down into gouts of water.

Tomas throws a look to Ran, who he found was staring at him, clearly waiting for a plan. He swallows dryly, trying to take in everything around him, and what he had on his person.

Ran speaks with panting breath, an almost casual gesture as she indicates to the Lieutenant.

"Tomas, the Youkai on the monsters' back, I need to get to her. I can convince her to cease this pointless chase, buying us a chance to escape. I do have a plan; however, I need to get a hold of her physically, any suggestions?"

Feeling the fire crawl up his legs, at all this running he has been forced to do over the last evening, he catches sight of various natural growths and low hanging branches ahead of them. His hand slides to his belt and pouches, his thumb brushing over the form of an unused photon flash grenade. Inwardly he felt the seed of a plan start to sprout, much to his chagrin.

"Oh Throne, yeah. I think I can get us some time. You better damn well be right about your hunch with that Youkai. Hope you are light on your feet, as at this next tree. I am gonna boost you up to those low branches, use them to climb up, get up there and wait. I'll stun the big bug, you take that chance to get the little rat on it's back."

Ran spares him a worried look, as she starts to pull ahead of him, moving to get into position. Her eyes pulled further beyond him, as the audible crash of timbers announced the megarachnid had reached the creed and was now firmly behind by far too close by far too few meters.

"I hope you're right about that, are you going to be able to stall the beast while I slap some sense into Nightbug?"

The pair finally reach the low-hanging branches, Ran skids to a halt before them and pivots waiting for him with a clear nervous bounce in her step. Tomas skids to a halt, clasping his hands together, as Ran steps upon it. With all his might the stormtrooper vaults his companion upward, Ran's hand ensnaring several of the branches as she hauls herself upward into the canopy.

With her secure, he wheels about to take stock of what he was up against. The sight did not do much to improve his mood as he called up to her vanishing form.

"Well I am not much of a liar, but for both our sakes right now, let's just pretend I got a plan. "

As lumbering down the creek, was the hulking silver-white form of the megarachnid. It's mandibles flared out in a strangled hiss as thick globs of spittle flew forth as it hisses a challenge to him. The creature's talons cut neat furrows through the muddy stream in a slough of water, as it approached.

Releasing the clasp that bound the photon-flash from his pouch, he levels his pistol up at the creature, sending out a few searing bolts of superheated energy to pepper it's hide. The bolts did precisely little as the heavy insect reared back a vast scythe-like talon, sweeping it at waist height across the creek-bed.

Tomas throws himself into the creek bed, the water splashing upon his face, the stinging muddy water trying to blind him as he feels the talon sweep overhead with a gust of air. The sound of cracking timber announcing it's passing as it falls another tree in one sweep of those unnatural blades.

With the photon-flash firmly in his grip, he pulls the pin free, casting his gaze upward as he spies another of those talons jabbing down towards him. As he rolls aside, he throws the grenade upward, the spiraling munition pinwheels through the air before the towering xeno-beast.

Completing his roll, he arrives face down in the creek, his only words thrown up to the wind in hopes that Ran can hear him and understand what is coming.

"Flash!"

With that a small nova of light, comparable to a daybreak erupts in the creekbed. The searing and blinding multi-spectral rays of light erupt before the many eyed chitin maw of the towering megarachnid. The light causes it to shriek and reel back, it's many legs flailing as it bucks backward, the crack of timber shattered by it's reeling filling the air with a cacophony of din of it's panicked shrieks.

Not wishing to waste this boon, Tomas hauls himself up to his feet, sparing a glance upward, as much to his relief, he sees the leaping blur of movement that was Ran. She clears the length of a stout branch and sails across the void between her and the megarachnid's back. She vanishes for a moment behind it's crest, before she sails past, Wriggle now firmly in her grip as she carries them both off the creatures back and onto the opposite embankment.

He gives a wry grin, and levels his pistol at the flailing form of the insect, squeezing off several shots at it's underbelly, which bite a touch deeper leaving deep scores in its hide. The blind form of the megarachnid uneasily rises to its talons, sweeping out in the direction wildly that it heard the shots come from. Given their clumsy and unaimed angles, Tomas merely withdraws further into the brush, moving away from the creek away from Ran's direction as he squeezes off the occasional bolt to stir the creatures ire towards him.

As he moves deeper into the forest, he could spy the veiled embankment in which Ran and Wriggle had vanished, come alive with brilliant light. Mixed glowing hues of veridian and gold strobed and erupted from the place where they fell. Inwardly he hoped that was the hall-mark of a productive conversation as he baited the megarachnid further into the forest where it's size and bulk play out detrimentally in the denser tree clusters.

Several long minutes stretched on as he put as much distance as he could manage between him and the heaving beast, finding himself able to even hunker down in a low depression in the earth as he worked to catch his breath. Beneath the cover of a large bush's expanse, he sat down panting ears perked as he can hear the megarachnid closing in ever so slowly, it's shrieking hisse jarring and unsettling at his core.

He does have to fight the urge to jump from his skin as his vox-bead buzzes sharply in his ear, the winded voice of Viktor rumbling over the link with surprising clarity.

"Lieutenant! If you are still alive! Gamma has managed to repair the vox-caster, she says there is traffic from Valkyries and support craft, we can patch you through to them when you're in a safe position."

Tomas swiftly keys up his vox-bead and lowers his voice, the heavy stilted step of the creature growing closer.

"Aye, I can hear you Voidsmen, tell Gamma to get me set on their frequency and relay for me. I need to get some sort of gunship over here to pop this bug. You two just stay back, if you can try to find Ran, she was dueling with the Wriggle girl when we split up. I currently am stuck with the bug, and I'd rather not be."

Viktor promptly provides an acknowledgement, the static returning to Tomas' own vox-bead as the frequency was rapidly adjusted, at first the faint crackle and hiss of the dead air was all he was given. However suddenly the electric haze cleared, and from it sprang a bustling channel, pilots speaking with officers elsewhere on the ground as they tried to work out places to ferry armsmen and guard units.

Tomas nearly sang a hymn then and there, when he caught vox chatter from the idling gunship, the pilot and co-pilot expressing confusion over what was unfolding down in the forest below. He wastes no time in broadcasting to them, whilst yelling over the impact and shriek of the super-heated bolts of energy streaking just inches above his head.

"Flash Traffic! This is Lieutenant Foley, 495th of Sigma Lance. My team is caught in a blind down here by a damnable xeno-beast and by the Throne could I use some air-support! Anyone on the Frequency? Over!"

A single moment of silence seemed to stretch forever, as the pilots quieted, listening as Tomas spoke, before level and flat static laced voice returned to the vox-network. In the skys to his east, beyond the dense canopy, Tomas can make out the distinctive orange-red lights of the a Vulture gunship start to weave in its place, doubling back around as it heads towards Foley in his general direction.

"Confirmed lieutenant, this is gunship _Stalwart Fury_ signing on, your signal is weak but we can read you. We are on station providing air-support to ground elements, and Him preserve us you're the first person we've heard from. Do you have a means of marking your target? Orbital uplinks are inoperable, and we are working manually here."

The sound of the megarachnid draws ever closer, by now even the sound of it's clicking mandibles echo in on the trees as it stalks through seeking its prey. Tomas hastily in turn rummages in his combat webbing, muttering a storm of prayers as he tries to find something to benefit him in his moment of need. His hand bumps unto a cylindrical object nestled safely in his webbing's pouch and he breaths an audible sigh of relief. Inwardly he counts his blessings that the Quarter-Master had indeed made sure to restock them on the starship prior to their escape, as he withdraws a heavy strobo-flare.

Whilst drawing the device, he gave it a quick once over, checking over it's condition since the crash praying it was undamaged. The heavy device was squat and cylindrical, heavy broad spectrum luminator sub-arrays lining it's sides. A thick activator stub rested upon it's top, he primes it and depresses the activator and leans out from his cover in the blind.

Stooped low, no more than a few meters from him was the towering form of the megarachnid, it's mandibles clicking as it peered down and around various trees on it's search for him. Those long talons reached forth to uproot the towering trees overhead as it hauled it's way forward, slowly and methodically. From this distance, he could even see the ever so faint dull gleam from its near dozen eyes as they sweep to and fro taking in every detail of the terrain in turn.

"Confirmed, Target will be marked by strobo-flare, understood? I hope you boys got your visors on, my marker is active, and on target. Over."

With that throw back the brush that had provided him such shelter, rearing back with a mighty effort, he lobs the spiraling and flashing device over towards the xeno beast. The bouncing strobo rolls it's way down a slight incline and comes to rest in the open, it's luminators giving off a dull red glow, as it's luminator sent out strobing multi-spectral light visible in the pilots auto-sense visors.

However, the downside to such is that as soon as he emerged, the many eyes of the xeno were cast upon him in an instant. It's mandibles flare outward as a hail of spittle and a shrieking hiss escape it's maw. It rears back it's forelimbs, stabbing down towards the Lieutenant as it aims to hew him in twain with a staggered two prong strike.

Spying the strikes, Tomas moves his frame away as his arms come up to shield his torso from the blades, only to find himself a fraction too slow. He watched as the leading edge of the nearest talon made contact with his left arm just below his elbow. The once venerable carapace gauntlets he wore are parted like air, in an uneasy moment of silence, he hears the whispers soft sigh of the armaplas material surrender it's resistance to the xeno-blade arm. His eyes caught sight of something spiraling away from his form, as a detonation of the pain wracked his mind, and burning hot fluids spattered his face.

The strike propels him a fair distance away and crumples him against a nearby tree, he thrashes to right himself as he reaches to check the state of his wound, only a mute coldness greeting him. His worst fears are realized as his hands pass through open air, where once his forearm occupied. His gaze is turned upward, spying the creature as it casts a confused glance back over it's wide abdomen, it's voice shrieking out as it calls to the Youkai that controlled it, the beast remaining motionless for a moment as no response comes to it, much to it's visible confusion.

In these precious seconds, Tomas digs it's fingers into the dirt and kicks himself away from the tree, crawling away from the creature as he aims to put as much distance between it and himself as he could manage. Despite the pain, he knew full well that the clock was ticking and each nano-meter he was away from the creature was another chance at a new lease on life.

The flicker of movement must have caught the creatures attention, as it turns back to his withdrawing form. It's body swaying as it prepares to reap it's tally, however Tomas cried out his praise to the Throne as a distant whine grew louder and louder with each passing second, giving the beast one final pause.

For soon the forest was filled with the roaring shriek of over-charged turbines, a choking downburst of air erupts on the forest floor all the while peeling back the canopy of the trees in an artificial wind-swept maelstrom. The once moonlit forest is now drowned in a stark and harsh chemical light as several searchlights flick to life with an almost thunderous crack. Now caught within the converging beams of light, the creature turns away it's crested head to shield it's gaze from the searing intensity now focused upon it.

Overhead the angular and compact form of a Vulture gunship dips and bobs as it's vertical lift systems engage, redirecting the engine's thrust downward as the gunship begins to hover. Beneath either of it's wide wings nestled two vast rotary cannons with bloated drums of munition attached via a feed belt. The air was filled with a whistling electronic whine as the barrels started to build up speed, shortly before the twin Punisher Cannons erupt in a fusillade of fire.

The electric shriek of the automatic buzz-saws roar turn the trees into explosive puffs of timber, and the grass and foliage blow into a moist sheen of green that hangs in the air.

Unabashedly Tomas curls himself up into a ball, trying to minimize his target as the hailstorm of shots impact upon the creatures hide. The blizzard of solid slugs tearing off great chunks of it's hardened hide, but producing no massive effect due to the creatures unnatural resilience. Caught between the relentless rain of shells, and the tight confines of the trees around it, the megarachnid begins to haul itself back, clambering over the trees as it works to withdraw before the fury of the gunship.

The vast silver-white of it's chitin hide fleeing merely draws the attention of the Vulture pilot, who promptly redirects the engines thrusts and continues to hove at pace with the towering creature's form, exchanging bright tracer-streams of Punisher cannon fire with agonized shrieks from the creature as they race off for the westward horizon.

Tomas uncurls himself, laying in the wet dew of countless macerated flora, with a deep warmth leaving him from his left arm. He works to haul himself against the ruined remains of a now fallen tree, working to free his tourniquet from his webbing as the crushing fatiguing strikes him like a shock-maul to the head, his comms bead crackles to life as the pilot speaks up once more.

"_Stalwart Fury_, to Foley. We are signing off-station, and heading to trail xeno contact. Attempting to vector in Thunderbolts for anti-armor action, as we can't scratch this damn thing with our guns."

A breathless minute passes as he works to seize up his arm's ragged end and stop the bleeding before the pilot continues.

"We've been in contact with elements from the Asharii, from what we understand they and some members of your Sky-Raiders have managed to secure a forward operating base command is rallying at. If you want I can vector in a Valkyrie from Bulgraff's guard unit and pick you up at that nearby stream-bed, which looks clear enough to extract from."

Finding his grip weakening, and unable to cinch it properly over his arm, he opts to take hold of the strap with his teeth. The flaring pain and choked yell he released as the sharp hiss of the devicing tightening over his agonized arm gave him a ragged voice as he formed his reply.

"Aye, I need a bird to pick us up. I need a medicae officer on station when we land as well, I got caught pretty bad there. Thank you Fury, Throne bless you and your hunt."

The pilot gives him an affirmation, before he is left in silence once more upon this strange world. His ragged and tired frame slumps against the stump as he finds himself staring up at the pristine and now visible midnight sky.

For the first time since they made their ill-fated landing, he was able to catch his breath. He felt a calm serenity watching the stars and the brilliant moon overhead, their dull like not like that of any world he'd ever been on. There was something entrancing about the scene, his friends were safe for now, rescue was coming for them.

He gave a stifled laugh as he thought over a sudden irony that had struck him. He'd spent his entire youth and life up until now, staring down at the earth on countless jumps his regiment had performed. Hardly ever had he been given the chance to lay down and merely watch the stars and skies above as they turn softly overhead.

The coldness in his chest still tinges him, the grey edges of his vision requiring him to blink harshly to keep them from spreading. It was here in this state he lay for quite some time, faintly in the distance he could hear shouts and calls for his name. His vox crackled and Viktor's voice ebbed acrossed with growing concern.

"Lieutenant? Are you there? We saw the Vulture complete it's strike. His will, I pray you're alive, Give us a sign?"

Raising his crimson slick hand, he toggles his vox-bead, adjusting his position to be seated, as he aims to relieve the Voids-men's growing apprehension.

"I can hear you Viktor, got caught pretty bad, I need someone to help me find something I dropped. If you got any pain-suppressants, I wouldn't mind if you brought them over, yeah? We got a Valkyrie headed for the creek-bed, we can rally there and wait for extraction. We aren't out of the woods just yet, so keep alert."

He lay there for some time in his own reflections on his venture so far, before the dull crack of a fallen branch at his back catches his attention. Far too out of the fight, with pain sinking into him, he merely clenches his teeth and calls back to the unseen figure.

"Hells teeth, if you're that Nightbug, let's finish this. I've still got one good arm and my pistol's just over there. Your big bug friend got my other, but I'll be damned if I need more than one hand to-."

A flash of movement at his side betrays the black and gold hues of Ran, a look of muted horror splayed across her face as she makes her way to his side. She looks between the empty void of his left arm and his blood spattered face whilst her mouth works wordlessly trying to say far too many things all at once. Tomas gives her a weak chuckle, feeling a sense of quiet tranquility drift over him as he is drawn into her arms. With a few moments of hesitation, as she tries to figure out her course of action, she starts to double check his first-aid work for errors.

"Oh Throne on Terra, you're a sight for sore eyes. Don't worry about me, it's not as bad as it seems; I think. You win your fight?"

Ran stares daggers at him as she works to properly set his tourniquet, frantically starts to dig in his armor's webbing for his trauma kit, her tone harsh and tinged with an edge of undisguised fear as she works with shaking hands.

"Be silent you daft fool, I told you not to put yourself in unneeded risk. Damn you, it didn't even set right. I promise you, if you perish here and now, I will hate you for the rest of time."

Tearing open his trauma kit, she hauls out his pain-suppression vials, jabbing one of the needles into his bicep, causing him to wince as a tiny bolt of fire blooms at the spot. After a swift check over of his injuries, she glances out towards the newly formed clearing, eyes darting to and fro.

"Where is your arm? Damn it Foley, tell me you at least found it. You're hopeless…" She grows quiet, staring down at him, her jaw working in agitation as she allows him to rest on her lap. Her voice wavering as she speaks up, "... I did win, she will trouble us no more. I beat her and forced her to call off that terrible beast. She claims it was from the outside world, I've never seen a monster like that before in this realm."

Feeling the welling bloom of the pain suppressor spreading over his body, he feels the fire of pain dull down to a muted smolder, trailing off as it falls into a dull chemical ease. He gives a half shrug and nods up to her.

"Eh, Gamma made mention that the thing was something from a sector of space far from ours as well. Some sorta long lost xeno-beast that was fought in the distant past. I wouldn't fret over it too much, so long as that Nightbug lass agreed to call that beast off us, aye?"

Ran casts her gaze up, hearing the dull whine of a Valkyrie's engines far to the south, it's angular silhouette drifting on the horizon as it makes its way to the evacuation zone at the river. She takes stock of the Lieutenant's state, opting to encourage him to stand with her aid. She keeps her voice low as she tries to split her focus.

"Who can say, she claims to have dominion over the insect, but I doubt that she fully has control of it. I suspect it will seek out revenge upon us at some point in the future. But that is then. As for now, I need you to rise, we have to get to the dropship. What do you want me to tell Gamma and Viktor? I am worried the voids-men will feel some measure of guilt over your injury."

With Ran's aid, Tomas manages to rise shakely to his feet, leaning heavily upon her as she supports his movement. He provides her with a shake of his head as the pair move search the glade, and after kicking aside several broken and shattered tree-trunk portions, they manage to find and recover his recently departed arm, before making their way back along the shattered path towards the stream.

"Eh, let him fret for a bit, I got pain-suppressors in me right now, asking me for talking points is about as effective as asking a grox for directions."

Their trip to the stream's edge was quiet for the most part, as Ran bears his weight, on the course back Tomas speaks up, throwing an earnest look bearing newfound respect for the retainer.

"You know, I'm glad your Mistress assigned you to me. You're not half bad for a spire-born retainer."

"You don't have to thank me, I told you that."

"... Well how about you hand me my arm, I have a hand free."

"Be silent, before I strike you."

Ran gently guides him from the broken forest,however despite this brief reprieve and this small victory, inwardly he knows that the madness was all that awaited them here. All the while, their mission here on this backwater world had just begun.


	8. Interlude Alpha - Inqusitorial Matters

**\\\ ++ :: Halting Lt. Foley Record Recollection :: ++ /**

**:: Intervening Transmission Received ::**

**\\\ ++ :: Intended Recipient: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ++ /**

**[[ :: Opening Communication Channel : **_**Acolyte Artaus**_** Transmitting . . . ::]]**

"... Most holy of Inquisitor, I do hope that the archive you have been reviewing thus far is satisfactory in the depth and complexity of it's content, our menials present on station would like to further indicate we've taken the liberty to prepare further data for transmission to your vessel at your request…"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

"... Indeed Acolyte, thus far the archive has answered some of my lingering questions, though many more remain, most importantly, I've a great many inquiries surrounding this Gensokyo and it's precise nature are perplexing. I've had my Scribes, cross-reference stellar charts and and star maps from a myriad of locations across the galaxy, only to have my efforts bear forth no fruit. Tell me, did you and your team manage to salvage any meaningful data from the various night-time stills from this entry in Tomas Foley's archive? I am seeking to better place this realm in the context of a greater whole, and I believe the few reconstructed scenes of the night sky might be a keen clue to unveiling this mystery…"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Acolyte Artaus :: ]]**

"... Keen is the mind you possess M'Lord! For indeed we had noticed and managed to recover pic-captures from various sources within the cogitators memory banks. To say we've swept over stellar charts ranging from the acrid soaked battlefields of Helix Primarus to the chaotic and hellish blight of the Cadian gates own stellar layout, is by far an understatement!

But as of late one of the servitors that was analyzing this data for us, made a most peculiar and estranged connection, we've never dared muse. Upon comparing catalogued pic-captures from various deep and cloistered librarium. We suspect that the layout and position of the stars in the sky above this realm, most closely match that of… well Holy Terra itself M'Lord as erroneous as it may seem."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" … Come now Acolyte, your conclusion is not only impossible, but entirely dumbfounding. You have spent nearly a decade collecting data pertaining to this investigation, and you lead me forth and suggest that this realm of Gensokyo is somehow upon the blessed soil of the Holy of Holies? You must have your servitors decommissioned and slated for reconstitution with fresh and agile minds unburdened by a decade of musing over these data-streams. I will order you a new set of computational and archivist servitors for your librarium … "

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Acolyte Artaus :: ]]**

" … M'Lord, I regret to inform you that I've already ordered the servitors purged and replace no less than thrice when the data was presented to me. Sire, this data has been mused and mulled by three separate cogitator banks for no less than a decade and each one spits forth the exact same report, each time! I would not be honoring my station if I were not to look upon this data without suspicion, but yet each time without fail the data is laid bare before my eyes.

I've consulted with various Magos Dominus from various circles of the Adaptus Mechanicus's own Astra-Chronologica and each of them have stalwartly pointed out the uneasy familiarity and similarity the placement of the stars in the skies between ancient catalogued pic-captures of Holy Terra's own skies and that of this Gensokyo. The logic engines indicate that by some unknown means, these realms are either frightfully similar, or are by definition the exact same! …"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" . . .**[*System does not register audio input*]**. . . "

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Acolyte Artaus :: ]]**

"... M'Lord, the data is conclusive, I have transmitted the excerpts from our research notes here to your vessel. I know not what this means or if this is even possible, as it appears this realm of Gensokyo is upon the face of Holy Terra itself, but far in the distant past as there is no sign of orbital defensive batteries nor the militarization of her holy orbital body Luna. As to how this Battlegroup could have arrived upon such a plane confounds the mind, as we've yet to speculate upon such … "

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

" … Standby Acolyte, I am opening this vox-channel to another more experienced in such fields than myself…"

**[[ :: Alert: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Chronos; Inquisitor Matarii :: ]]**

"...** [*Vex sigh Audible*] **The hour is late Inquisitor Tharix, I pray to the Throne you've some proper reason for interrupting my slumber, I left clear instruction that I was not to be interrupted at this hour …"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

"... You can whinge and weep over your precious sleep another time Matarii, we have far more grave matters to discuss, as my Acolyte has recovered some unsettling information about the Ad Integrum Battle-Group that I am investigating. Tell me, in your Ordo's records, when vessels are lost within the confines of the Immaterial, how far back or forward are they capable of travelling chronologically? ..."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Chronos; Inquisitor Matarii :: ]]**

"... Tharix, you called me in the mid of my sleep cycle, to ask me about damnable time distortions and how far they are able to travel within the course of space-time? Damn it, you ineffable fool, I told you not to waste my time on petty -"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

"... Damn it Matarii! Listen to me, the data my Acolyte has recovered points solidly to support that somehow the Battle-Group _Ad Integrum_ is currently on Holy Terra, far before even the reclamation of the Luna's surface, can you fathom what sort of implications this would have for our species if this was accurate! I am transmitting our findings, I need you to read them and answer my question! …"

**[[:: Data Transmitted; Sender Accepted Data Archive ::]]**

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Chronos; Inquisitor Matarii :: ]]**

"... **[*Long Unbroken Silence*]** This is impossible. There is no means nor way for a vessel let alone a fleet of them to traverse that far back chronologically. What in His name is going on here. Even the Chronometer readings are wildly fluctuating here, and feeding back dates and times beyond the capability of their recall.

You've several data recorders, one of them time-stamped from the early days of the M31, then you've some of these records spitting out dates that range from M1 to M4. None of these are possible. Have you spoken with Adapts of the Mechanicus? What it seems to me, you're dealing with faulty Chronometers that are causing this wild delusion, though I will confess the star-chart data is, unsettling …"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

"... That is what I have said, and my menials have relayed to me! There is no way under His golden light that such a thing could have occured. Yet laid before you is data that has been verified by hundreds of independent sources. As for the Chronometer data, Acolyte! Have you had members of the Mechanicum inspect the data-recorders and ensure their blessed machine's spirit still functions as it should? …"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Acolyte Artaus :: ]]**

"... Y-Yes my Lord! I have sent the physical data-banks of the Chronometers to the nearby Forgeworld of Ryza, they have physically plied and inquired with the Machine Spirit of the data-banks and they attest that these chronometers are accurately reporting their times with the data they were able to record and provide. …"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Chronos; Inquisitor Matarii :: ]]**

"... Damnation that boggles the mind to even suggest these things could occur, though I am still skeptical of this entire ordeal or at least the location of your Battle-Group, I shall reach forth to my contacts within Ordo Malleus and Ordo Custodum, as there are many cases recorded that produce similar results daemonic entities become involved in the material plane, time and space flow and ebb differently, along with the sky you see in your pic-captures could be entirely fabricated or manipulated by beings Immaterial…

Thus as this situation has piqued my curiosity, I am hellbent to get to the bottom of this once seemingly unassuming Battle-Groups loss. I shall take my leave, long may His Light Shine. ... "

**[[: Vox Link Terminated; Ordo Chronos; Inquisitor Matarii ::]]**

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

"... Very good, Inquisitor Matarii is a senior among his Ordo, hopefully the resources he will be able to bring to bear will help us gather further insight into this matter, and broach if there was warp-based chronological distortion, or if some entity of the Immaterial is ensnared our Battle-Group in a twisted twilight realm between the Material and Immaterial.

Now, where were we? I do believe we had reached the close of Lt. Foley's first reconstructed archive, had we not? The entity that has travelled with him, I find unsettling. Are we certain that this Yukari and her retainer have any name or holds within Imperial space?

The nature of this realm is unsettling because if I am not mistaken the megarachnid they encountered, was that race now burned from the galaxy millenia ago? How did one of their wretched kind escape the fires of the Great Crusade.

In addition, back when he was aboard the _Blade of Woe_, your recreation actually confirmed the presence of Traitorous Legionnaires, or at least renegade elements of Astarte that had boarded their vessel, can you explain the meaning of this? Are there active confirmations that Traitor Legionnaires incited the failure of the fleets Gellar Fields? There was no record of such in the after action report from Ichorous V. …"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Acolyte Artaus :: ]]**

"... Indeed my most holy lord, I can assure you that the data we've collected from the archives do fully indicate the presence of seditious forces that managed to embed themselves within the menials and guardsmen of Ichorous, their actions destabilized the fleet of that we can be sure. It seems these same elements also survive the vessels controlled deorbit by Commodore Terval and plague the loyalist survivors further on in this record.

As for the presence of Traitor Legionnaires, we do have several banks of cogitators working to process after-action reports that come later in the archive that seem to conclusively prove that Traitors of the Dolorous Sacraments warband were operating in some capacity throughout the recorded time-line spent in this Gensokyo.

As for the Dolorous Sacrament, they appear to be composed of legionnaires from many of the traitors' numbers as descriptions of their appearances vary wildly from one account to another.

In addition, Traitorous elements from what the Lieutenant Foley's logs indicated, the traitor warband boarded the vessels suddenly whilst in transition, their meddling prior responsible for the Gellar Fields failure.

As for the portals that opened to consume the fleet, we suspect that this Yukari figure had a hand in this action, though we've no data in any archive or librarium at our disposal that would bring us a step closer to unraveling how such came to be nor any recorded info of a noble bearing such a title. She is unknown to us.."

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

"... Troubling to know that elements of the Battlegroup were trapped wherever they were with elements of the arch-enemy among their number. Certainly it's even more fortunate to know that we soon will have assistance from pillars of the Ordo Malleus investigating this situation, with their resources we may be able to make some measure of headway. We shall see what the Emperor has willed for them soon enough I do suspect.

Now, as for this archive, Lt. Foley does manage to return to this Valkyrie with the other survivors from his account, from what I am to understand? What became of the injury he sustained whilst engaging the megarachnid? I see this is not the end of his account.

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Acolyte Artaus :: ]]**

"... Aye, M'Lord, Lt. Foley does manage his way back to the extraction zone, before his archive suddenly derails from the rest of the expedition as he spends time within a house of healing, which I can detail at a later date. From what we can glean, he and Ran returned with the Voids-men and Skitarii to an ad-hoc airbase that the various regiments had managed to cobble together.

The next entry from Foley covers some sort of conflict erupted between the air-bases scouting force and abhumans that dwelled in a location that they were codifying as "_Yokai Moutain_". This resulted in several small scale skirmishes that resulted in Lt. Foley deploying with his newly formed team onto the mountain in question to establish an observation post. However they ended up at the entrance of some sort of cavern entrance. We can begin there if you want M'Lord. …"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

"... Hold Acolyte, I want to see more interactions with these natives during this initial foray into the realm, do you have an archive you can supplement in between those of Lt. Foley and his team on the ground? Perhaps someone from the ranking command structure might give us some more insight into how the regiments are put together in their crumbled command structure and their interactions with the natives? …"

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Acolyte Artaus :: ]]**

"... Actually I do have an archive we can look over, it's an excerpt from the immaculately kept journal and audio/visual recordings from the Lord Commissar attached to the regiments. The Lord Commissar in question is Bulgraff Von Draken, an extremely decorated and especially aged member of the Commissariate that won his honors and accolades during the myriad of Ork incursions that cropped up in the sector.

Throne preserve him, this man is well into his 7th decade of service, his tale began as he was actually in the process of demobilization whilst training a new generation of Commissars in the sector's Schola Progenia.

As stated, he was recalled back into service during the Greenskins final invasion, and subsequently made his escape with the fleet when they hauled the Ichourous guard survivors off-world.

When it comes to the role he plays in this Gensokyo, from what our records can confirm he was the acting and de-facto operation and command of the entire campaign, whilst sharing this authority with Magos Dominus Gretia and Major Bruma of the 495th, as it appears the Lord General in charge of their campaign did not survive a duel with a Warboss back on Ichorous V woefully under equipped to handle the new realm.

**[[ :: Incoming Vox Traffic: Ordo Astra; Inquisitor Tharix :: ]]**

"... Mhmm sounds like a reputable source of information, that can give us some insight into their operational planning and how they handled interactions with the natives. Very well Acolyte, if you would kindly forward me the data-archive, let us begin our review…"

**[[ :: Vox Communication; Terminated ::]**

**[[ :: Beginning Data In-load from Remote Source ::]**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lord Commissar Bulgraff :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Preparing Record Playback :: ++ /**

**\\\ ++ . . . ++ /**

**[++ :: Benediction of the Day :: ++ ]]**

". . . Fear not the shade nor shadow Guardsmen, for where you tread so too does His light . . ."


	9. Interlude Alpha - Part 1

**\\\ ++ :: Beginning Scene Reconstruction :: ++ /**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lord Commissar Bulgraff :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Playback :: ++ /**

Commissar Bulgraff was not having a very swell day. The aging fellow adjusts his black great coat and crimson sash, leaning against the edge of the hatch he was occupying. His towering peaked cap turns with his head focus as he scans the horizon with a pair of magnoculars that click and whirr as they focused on the horizon scanning for even but the barest hint of anything that might pique his attention.

He stood turned out of the hatch of the squat and wide form of the Achilles Ridgerunner, the fat tyres of the hastily modified civilian vehicle is entirely caked with thick mud, the vehicles angular body having failed to escape a treatment much the same. The armaments that normally rest on heavy mounts that mar his view had been hastily removed before they had made landfall, a sticking point that made the grizzled man work his jaw idly cursing everything under the moonlight that he was stuck in what amounted to a unarmed recon vehicle, out in a possible warzone.

Down within the hull of the Ridgerunner, a pair of young guardsmen clad in the fatigues of Ichorous V's own Planetary Defense Force, have slunk down in their seats, their inexperience readily apparent as they talk back and forth to one another. The driver of the Ridgerunner, a younger thinner fellow seemed to have discovered his chair could rotate, and thus had unlocked the swivel function of his seat. The young man lazily spun idle circles reclined as far back as the seat permits him too. He'd stare blankly at the drivers hatch above him, idly bouncing a rubber ball off the hatch and catching it.

The trooper, Droog speaks up addressing pretty much anyone within earshot, "Alright Pikes, but look, what about this, right? So it's a _felinid_ right? But it's just the ears and tails man, you're telling me that you totally wouldn't give her a chance? Even if she was the sweetest thing in the world AND all the girls on your habitation block had been exposed to bio-chems from the foundry. You'd still say no?"

Across from him, laying on his back was a somewhat huskier trooper, a soldier that had never known a want of food in his entire life, merely has his data slate open before him, tapping away on it as he flicked through various text files and informational reports. He pauses and glances over towards and shoots him a musing look, he tilts his head a few times, his helmet acting like a makeshift headrest as he speaks up,

"Ehh, I don't know mate, it doesn't really do anything for me. I mean it's an abhuman right? So if you like to marry and stuff, you're still stuck getting slapped with a reproduction fines, I mean if she is nice and has a pretty voice, then yeah I mean I could risk it. But have you not looked at the fines the Governor put on the Hive? It was like, mind boggling, we would have had to pull off-world duty tours for years just to meet the fine. On Top of that your trying to find the boltgun in the lasrifle mound, the type of _felinid_ you describe is like an anomaly even within the abhuman community. Remember all those fancy rich nobles from Zega Hive paid at least a star-ships cost to have them brought in from the Halcurii Sector. So I don't really think that's in the cards man. Keep dreaming."

Droog merely continues to spin and sigh idly as he catches the rubber ball, patting it a few times as he explosively sighs, turning his helmet up as he calls out to Bulgraff, as the old fellow scanned the horizon.

"Hey Commissar, what do you think? It's permitted and blessed so long as it's within the range of closer to humans, yeah? So what are your thoughts on that, huh?"

Bulgraff lowers the magnoculars and frowns curtly, leaning back as he addresses the youth, with a flat and his unfading grimace, his tone surprisingly placid.

"Ehh, you damn kids and your boundary pushin' ain't no good in my book, besides what's the point of taking an abhuman wife, if'n ya gotta go off world for two thirds of your life hoping you get back alive and that she will be. Seems pointless when you can settle down with a full-blood human and just call it a day. None of this muckin' about with the governor and his damn taxes."

Droog sucks air between his teeth and sighs, resuming bouncing the rubber ball off the inside hatch, he pauses and snatches the ball out of the air and bolts upright, indicating to Pikes and speaking with a blooming vein of excitement.

"No way, off-world deployment right? Now you tell me that this isn't the Emperor's will unfolding and in action! Oi! Commissar, does this deployment count as off-world assignment? And if we shoot at a few bushes a few times, are we eligible for hazard pay?"

Bulgraff exhales and squats down inside the Ridgerunner, face carrying faux excitement, before it falls back into his usual stoic look.

"Why yes! It does count as off- Ahhh, damnation, would you look at that, Hive Tilus was in every sense of the word, on fire, when we evacuated there. But naw lad, lemme just get your payment requisition forms all filled out and file them off to Central Command, post haste."

Bulgraff sat there, pretending he had an auto-quill and a piece of parchment, eagerly scribbling in the air as he glances up at Droog whom merely gave him an unbemused look. He mimes tearing the form out of a book, before tossing it to a fictional breeze.

"There ya go! Pay request stub is in the pipe, should get back to you a few centuries knowing that only the finest, still more than likely burning, Administratum wage-menials have gotten your request for hazard and off-world pay, just so you can marry a damn abhuman."

As Bulgraff stands back up out of the hatch, Droog swings about in the chair, speaking up to the Commissar idly, as he tries to find new ways to stave off the all consuming monotony of his current objective; waiting.

"You know if you set Administratum wage-menials on fire, I don't really think they would work any faster, I mean, I am sure they have to fill out forms to even get permission to even be on fire in the first place. So all in all it would just slow them down, Throne they are like the Astarte of bureaucracy. But, yeah, so how long are you gonna stay up there staring at the same terrain Commissar? I am getting an itch in my boot, I just wanna floor it and open this bad girl up and see what she can do."

Pikes speaks up, as he turns off his data-slate, indicating towards Droog with a grin on his face. His fellow trooper was gripping the wheel, miming stamping down on the gas as he makes muffled engine and shift changing noises with his mouth.

"Oi, Droog, Bully-graff is a bit sad,why don't you play the Commissars favorite game, just to cheer him up?"

Bulgraff grimaces as he slaps his gloved hand to his face, leaning heavily on the edge of the hatch as he speaks up almost imploring them not too.

"Don't do this now, we just did this not even a half hour ago."

Droog, pauses his faux driving and vigorously rubs his hands together, turning around with a wide grin on his face.

"You know Pikes, that's the best idea I've heard all day. Commissar, might I ask you for a game, it's called, 'Behold what I beheld with mine own blessed eyes'. I know you'll love it, it's bound to cheer you right up!"

Bulgraff grimaces ever more deeply.

"No, No ten thousand times no, do you want me to bash your head in with these magnoculars? Because you're on the blessed path to getting your head bashed."

Droog idly spins in his chair once more, spinning as fast he can not unlike a top, ignoring the threats from the tired commissar.

"Blessed with sight from Him so divine, I peered forth from this vehicles confines, pray tell what did I find that was tall and shone with a viridian shine, commissar?"

Bulgraff stares at him, idly tossing the magnocular at his chest, which draws a mock scream and a mote of surprise as the younger trooper recoils from it ensuring not to drop the valuable piece of gear. The older man works his jaw as he thinks, frown splayed unendingly across his face whilst he decides to play along sarcastically with the joke. His form rising up from the hatch as he slaps his gloved hands down on the edge of the Ridgerunner's cupola.

"Well damn Trooper Droog, I couldn't possibly fathom what could be tall green and everywhere…. Lemme see boy, could it be that damn bamboo lookin' plant there, or maybe it's one of it's ten thousand cousins? Hmmm, gotta think really hard on this one, ain't sure I am gonna be smart enough to figure it out."

True enough, they were in the middle of the unrelentingly thick and cloistered Bamboo forest, a dense path having been carved out in their trail as they had driven for what feels like hours among the narrow paths and stretching winding routes through the entirety of the forest. To say that Bulgraff's blood pressure was up was to speak the obvious, he angeredly chews his lho-stub till it crumbles. He stares at the broken stub before placing his head on the roof of the Ridgerunner, smacking his fist against the roof several times to vent his anger.

Droog swings about and shrugs, quite relaxed about the whole situation or failing possibly to truly comprehend what was unfolding.

"Aww cheer up Bulgraff, ain't no need to get upset. Oh! Wait I got an idea, why don't we get your big ogryn bodyguard to just punch his way through the forest. Oh, wait he's not here."

Pikes pauses, as he rests on his side watching the two go back and forth. The thought struck him, so he raises a hand and indicates between Droog and Bulgraff, his brow furrowed in confusion,

"You know I did notice it didn't smell like a grox had keeled over and died here, what gives? Where did you say Barz was?"

The Ogryn in question, Barz, was a three meter tall hulking dimwitted specimen of an abhuman, with the raw muscle mass and proven track record of breaking reinforced dropship doors for the by sheer accident, he made a terrifying sight as he escorted the Commissar about on his daily duties and routines. The fearsome bodyguard was normally inseparable from the Commissar as his intellectual capacity truly did limit his ability to do really, anything that he wasn't given step by step guides how to do written in a style comprehensible by young juvie. But as of late the giant hulking slab of unyielding muscle was not visible, not hide nor hair for well…

"He fell down a hole."

Bulgraff rubs his face and slides back down, into the commanders seat. Now seated next to Pikes and behind the spinning form of Droog, he gives a tired sigh, and moves to pull out another fresh lho-stub. He'd chew upon the end of the stub as he glances between his two aids, who return his gaze confused, before he answers them with an exasperated shrug.

"He fell down, a frackin hole that we stumbled upon after we escaped the Skytalon crash. I told you we were heading for this damn Ridgerunner, once we had it turned right side up, I told him to get a tool kit from the crashed Skytalon. He walked off and fell down a damn sinkhole…" He catches the looks the two of them gave him, somewhat unconvinced as he indicates between the two youths, "He was fine damn it, but the fall was far beyond the meager line or rope I had, and quite frankly I didn't have an Atlas recovery vehicle to crane his big head out. So I told him to rally with us east of the pits, and now here we are, lost ourselves in a midnight bamboo hell!"

Pikes sits upright, and reaches over to pat Bulgraff's shoulder, in faux sympathy, clearly lining up for a dig at him.

"Ehh, it's alright Commissar, just like Barz with his absolutely expert skill of subterranean navigation, we too will find our way to our beloved Emperor's warm embrace far from this bamboo nightmare we find ourselves in."

Bulgraff, stares daggers at Pikes, reaching over with a gloved hand to indicate to the man he walked a fine line,

"I knew I shoulda shot you both before we got stuck in this forest, Damnation …" He leans back against the bare permasteel skeleton of the commanders seat and sighs "... Make me a damn pot of recaf Pikes, and do something useful."

Pikes give a firm squeeze of Bulgraff's shoulder before turning round to the vessel warmer, built into the vehicle, placing a kettle on the stove. Bulgraff grants only a wordless gesture towards Droog, whose face instantly comes alive, knowing full well his time has come once more. With the clank of the chairs swivel release, he finds himself turned back fully around and gripping the wheel with a manic gaze in his eye, his hand turning the key as the engine rumbles back to life.

A cackle erupts from him as he jams his flak-boot into the gas and the ridgerunners wheels squeal to life, a shower of shattered bamboo stalks and dirt erupting behind it as the squat and sleek vehicle rockets off into the dense forest.

As the Ridgerunner races through the dense forest, it's lowered prow hacking apart and tossing aside mangled bamboo shoots, the poorly tuned suspension causes a jarring violent bucking that forces Bulgraff to keep a white knuckled grip on a grip-bar that ran alongside his station at the commanders hatch.

Droog keenly watches the world blaze past him through the armored window, as chunks of bamboo pinwheel past the vehicle as it tears forward, it's engines howling, as due to the relatively flat terrain, he merely pushes the gas fully to the floor. A quick glance back at his compatriots, gives him sight of Pikes, somehow, managing to brew a cup of recafe as if his hands and focus were gyro-stabilized despite the violence of the bounding buggy. Taking notice of the scowl on Bulgraffs face, Droog' reaches out and smacks one of the controls jury rigged to the spartan control panel before him, shouting over the din of shattering stalk-plants.

"Let's put on some tunes, yeah Commissar? Sorta lift the spirits of the men. What are you feelin' today? Something a little more thrash-cored or perhaps something classic, like agri-bass with something about goliath trucks and toxic muddin? I am feeling the latter."

A flick of a switch and the dull roar echoes from outside the vehicle, as several sets of poorly rigged vox speakers stir to life, thundering out out a rumbling static laced bass-line as the innocent bamboo forest was accosted by an agri-worlder booming about his infatuation with his goliath truck. Bulgraff merely pales as he rears back a boot, kicking the back of Droog' seat, raising his voice about the thunder of the music and the howl of the engine.

"Damn it Trooper, You cut that off, we are in unknown territory. If your lookin' to get yourself killed by an anti-armor team lying in waiting for us, your on the right path!"

Droog was far too busy singing along aloud to the booming songs catchy beat to really notice the chastisement from the Commissar, his hands slapping along the wheel as he brings the squat form of the Ridgerunner screaming over a slight knoll, as he does the squat scout vehicle leaps airward, before crashing down in a spray of mud and water as it came down and tore through a creek.

He frowns curtly, as the armored window becomes smattered with mud, idly toggling a pair of servo-limbs to scrape the mud and debris from the window, only to spy blurs of white and hues of color that contrast the unending sea of bamboo shoots as it appears their Ridgerunner blasted into a tiny clearing of sorts.

Droog narrowed his gaze, spying these inhumanly fast forms as they fled before the Ridgerunner, humanoid certainly, but what they were or up too was left unclear. The more pressing matter were the racing forms of energy bolts, danmaku that streaked in from all sides around the vehicle, peppering it's permasteel hull with carbon scoring and pockmarks marred by melted alloy. Droog throws the wheel, hard right as the groaning vehicle ponderously moves to course correct, only for an explosive release of air to echo in the newly made clearing. The front right wheel had imploded due to the focused fire of several dozen danmaku bolts, causing the squat vehicle to roll fully over, nosing down into the mud in a shower of debris and twisted components.

The battered form of the Ridgerunner comes to a groaning rest a few meters away from the embankment it leapt, it's front wheel gone and suspension battered, as the crew inside shifted about in a daze. Bulgraff took the worst of it, but the faint shimmering that encompassed his form betrayed the conversion field at work that had absorbed the worst of the damage. He'd sit upright, barking an order to the other two as he looks around and recovers his peaked-cap, double checking the presence of his power sabre and plasma pistol.

"I damn well told you there was gonna be an ambush, alright who's not dead?"

Pikes was laying in a crumpled heap, working to untangle himself from the webbing that had the Troopers lasguns were bound within, his face had a few nicks from the shattered cup he'd been pouring the recaf into, but otherwise seemed to be in a daze.

Droog on the other-hand had been thrown against the steering column, his flak armor taking the worse of the blow, but it mauled the controls, leaving him wiping a few flicks of blood from his face, mumbling to himself audibly as he peers out of the mud-caked window through the various cracks and chips out of the armored viewport.

"Awww Commissar it's all no good, she's no good! This poor girl ain't gonna hunt no more. Commissar! I see things moving out there, they are coming towards the Runner."

As if on cue, the dull sound of impact echo on the roof of the Ridgerunners cab, several other sounds of movement as the sputtering vox speakers are silenced one after another on the vehicles outer hull. Bulgraff moves to unholster his plasma pistol, watching the half-closed hatch over him warily, as he lowers his voice.

"Stow it Droog. Pikes, get the lasguns sorted out from their webbing, we are gonna shoot our way out of here and head east…" He pauses and pulls up his chronometer "... If we follow the trail we tore through the stalks we can at least back-track to the Sky-talon's crash site, once there we rig up the vox-set and try and call for extraction."

Droog had managed to unlatch himself from the crash harness, standing up as the shatter-proof glass before him cracks and breaks apart into heavy chunks that flew into the cabin. Under the faint light of the bright moon overhead, fleet and nimble forms have clambered atop the hood of the Ridgerunner. One after the other two arms reach within the cabin, either of them clasping hold of Droog's flak collar. He stares down in muted horror as the seemingly slight human hands start to bodily haul him out through the broken window.

Droog screams in terror as he tries to take hold of the broken and bent steering wheel, yet despite being a full grown man, he is bodily hauled from the wreck like a ragdoll, his kicking flakboots the last thing Bulgraff sees before he is taken from the damaged Ridgerunner. Dozens of shapes moving just beyond the window in a living sea, as the form of Droog vanishes among the crowd. This prompts Bulgraff to launch himself towards Pikes, who was still fighting to get the lasguns loose from the webbing it had become wound up in. With a flick of his wrist, he draws his knife and starts to saw on the dense webbing.

The commander's hatch is thrown open as the moonlight fills the tank, several lithe and slight forms drop down into the Ridgerunners interior, humanoid in form they scan the inside and zero in on Bulgraff and Pikes. Two of them leap forward, tackling the old Commissar from behind, as they work to bind his arms up with their own inhumanly strong grasp and muscles. Their slight stature belied a terrifying strength as the hauled him away from Pikes, several more of their kindred leaping forward to clamber atop the Trooper, wooden batons wailing upon the Trooper who eventually gave up his fight, collapsing on the ground in a ball as they kicked and beat him.

Bulgraf fought like a man possessed, thrashing and backing himself into the wall several times harshly as he tries to shake off his captors, his hands being bound by their own as they tried and eventually succeeded in knocking the plasma pistol from his hand. He snarls and manages with a slam of his body into the two smaller forms wrapped around his arms and back, to weaken the grip of one of his attackers. His right arm comes across his chest and reaches behind him, aiming to ensnare anything of his attacker. His hands find purchase upon soft fur covered flesh, he'd harshly yank, only to get pained squeal as their grip weakens. With all the effort he could muster, he hauls the figure free from his back by their ears, tossing them away from him.

As the attacker passes by, he gains the first glimpse of his foes, human, almost entirely human despite being somewhat smaller in height and scale. The figure was a male on the smaller side, the only thing striking Bulgraff as estrange were the pair of long floppy rabbit ears that hung from either side of the lads head. The rabbit strikes the wall and crumples in a dazed state.

Wasting no time, the Commissar stares upward at the open hatch, as more shadows loom over it. He leaps upward, his free hand taking hold of the hatch's edge, before he hauls himself and another of the rabbits that had locked itself to his back pinning his left arm, fully out of the Ridgerunners cupola. As he emerges into the moonlight he feels a terrifyingly harsh series of impacts driving into his hand and back as his unwelcome passenger finally releases him. The rabbits that stood around the hatch each bore sizeable mallets of estranged design, each of them swinging in an alternating pattern, aiming to drive him back down into the hatch. He snarls and reaches down with his freed hand as his body is wreathed in a bright and shimmering golden light from the conversion field, the worst of the impacts are absorbed, as he fights to draw his power sword.

However, a violent tug on his belt, revealed the trio of rabbits, having beaten the tar out of Pikes had come over and now locked his blade in its scabbard with their hands, whilst some pulled him down further into the cabin of the Ridgerunner. The Commissar raged, and kicked out at his attackers, but their strength was terrifying, inhuman despite their size. Truly he knew if he could just reach his plasma pistol, he could drive them off, yet not chance was given as the Commissar is battered and hauled down into the Ridgerunner, whilst the swarm of rabbits clamber atop him, striking him with hammers and wooden batons till his conversion field is simple overwhelmed by the unending tide of cotton tailed foes that soon bind him in the heavy webbing from the Ridgerunner, hauling him out like a prize as the sizeable force of rabbits present cheer and celebrate their victory over the invaders, whilst hauling their ensnared forms deeper into the Forest of the Lost.

Bulgraff merely stares off blankly into the stars, resigned to be devoured or tortured for information it would more than likely seem. In the back of his mind he could only think.

_Today was a very bad day._


	10. Interlude Alpha - Part 2

**\\\ ++ :: Beginning Scene Reconstruction :: ++ /**

**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lord Commissar Bulgraff :: ]**

**\\\ ++ :: Begin Record Playback :: ++ /**

The muffled clatter of carapace plate armor striking a wooden floor echoes among the clearing within the bamboo forest, Bulgraff yells out and barks out a curse as he takes in the sight of his captors. Trapped within a small storehouse, around him stood a dense host of estranged abhumans, almost entirely human save for lengthy ears of various mottled hues and earthen tones. The collection of rabbits prod and jab at him with bamboo shoots, plucked and sharpened that jar and jostle the old human, causing him to growl out insults and a whirlwind of curses upon them and their bloodlines should they continue their antagonizing.

As Bulgraff watches the crowd with a scowl of disdain, one of their number after what seems like ages, breaks their looming crowd and walks before him. The newcomer was garbed in a soft pink hue dress, long floppy white ears hanging from her head as she leans down and prods at Bulgraff's face with a sharpened bamboo stalk, her voice self satisfied and bemused at his discomfort.

"Alright old man, time to start talking. Your two friends were a bit too chatty for their own good. Can't really get them to shut up now at this point. But we learned quite a bit about you and your friends secret plan to invade our homes here. Pretty devious if you ask me."

Bulgraff stares blankly at the rabbit, working his jaw as he tried to recall any vital information he'd provided to his aids prior to their capture. Upon remembering whom exactly his aids were, it was readily clear he relaxes slightly, raising his brow slightly as he tries to face the rabbit.

"Oh yeah? Who the in the Throne-Worlds name are you anyway, huh? As for the others, it's pretty much a damn shame then, bet they told you all those juicy tid-bits about the big drill huh? Bet you lot weren't expecting that."

The white rabbit gives him a self-satisfied smirk, giving him another probing nudge on the cheek with the pointy end of the stake, her head nodding along with his words. Bulgraff indeed had to hand it to her though, for being told absolute bupkis nonsense about a fictional big drill, she had a hell of a poker face.

"Tewi, not that you and your friends will be remembering that too clearly, if you don't keep cooperating gramps. And yeah, we heard all about you and your friends big plan for that big drill, so where are you digging to huh? Not much fun to be had underground, unless you're gonna try to dig up something. Now, my compatriots and I, are just dying to know what you're digging for with that big drill, as you honestly had the gall to interrupt a fairly quiet evening with your iron monster you rode in on. So if you get to talking, we might just let you all walk out of here, and not eat you like we had planned."

Bulgraff face twinges, his eyes glancing around to take in the crowd about him. Aside from several figures vaguely the same size and with a humanoid shape like Tewi's, there was a sizable collection of small furry creatures with unerringly similar long ears, these animal-like entities stared at him with the same intensity as this Tewi figure. Bulgraff recollects himself as he clears his throat, trying to probe the inquiring rabbit and her dedication to her persona she was trying to put on.

"Eat me, huh? That it? Little lady you gotta try harder then that. You don't think I ain't been threatened before to be eaten? I get that sent to me on the daily little lady, by beings with far larger teeth than yours! If you think I am gonna b-"

His words are cut off as the bamboo stalk is wacked across his face, causing an angry red mark mirroring the strike upon his countenance, the white rabbit rolls her eyes and leans back clearly trying to dig into her play book, as Bulgraff starts to thrash about and curse that he was cut of.

"Mhmmm, alright alright, shut up. Don't go off on a tangent, no one wants to hear your weird bragging about how people want to eat you. Outsiders are weird. So this is how it's gonna be, just tell us where your stupid drill is, so I can get Reisen off my back and then toss you back into the forest. Fair? It's a win win, you don't have to get dragged back with her, and I don't have to start doing increased patrols. What do you say about that, huh? Fair?"

The rabbits all around Tewi start to nod eagerly, several of them prodding and jabbing at the bound Commissar as he thrashes against his bindings, his normal calm compromised as he works his jaw to chew out a reply.

"What kinda offer is that supposed to be? I ain't got a clue where I am and what sorta hokey two bit back-water world I am stranded on. I have no clue what a Reisen is, is that like a food item or a food processor? Some sorta interrogation servitor? Also, Throne damn your forest you little white -"

_-Wack-_ Another bamboo strike against his face only draws out more angered shouts from the Commissar as he thrashes about once more. Tewi slowly lean back, sitting cross-legged as she gives a tired sigh, an begrudging look on her face as she indicates to her nearest minion.

"Alright, I've done all I can, looks like the old man is going to be resistant. Sorta a shame since his friends at least gave us a little something to work with. Go get Reisen, tell her that intruders were plowing their way through the bamboo forest. Actually tell her that Outsiders had come to attack Eientei, but we caught them before they reached too deep…" She pauses, glancing down at Bulgraff before tapping a slender finger to her cheek, "... Alright outsider, last chance, if you spill your guts about why you are here, I'll tell Reisen your just lost. If you don't fess up, I am going to tell her you are all three spies sent here for the boss."

Bulgraff ceases his struggle, his tone sharp and curt equal in line to the growing impatience he has for the yokai,

"If I have to say it again, I am going to bite off the first hand or limb that gets near me. I told ya, we were in space…" He gestures aggressively with his head towards the roof of the storehouse, "... Up there you insipid little rats, some sort of doorway opened and bam, are ships started falling out of the sky on your Throne-damned world. We did _-not-_ plan on coming here, your world wasn't even marked on stellar charts nor maps. So when I say that we are just as confused as you are-"

Yet again the bamboo falls, this time Bulgraff loses his patience, clamping down on the stalk with his teeth as he vented his fury in muffled curses. Tewi merely shifts away a hair, an disgusted look on her face as she waves away her nearest compatriot, clearly displeased with how this conversation was going, incredulous of Bulgraff's claims.

"Yep, it's no good, just go get Reisen. This human might just be sick, claiming he came from the sky and all this what not. Did the other two fellows say something similar?"

The collection of rabbits murmur and collect together in hushed tones as the messenger moves off heading from the store-house, as another mottled brown and white yokai rabbit raises her voice.

"Um, yes actually. The other humans mentioned something about coming from up there. But it doesn't really make sense as what Lady Eirin leads us to believe is that humans are somewhat slow in getting up into the sky. Not to mention that the big metal ship they arrived in was massive! It was like buildings, but they flew!"

Tewi shakes her head, ears swaying idly to and fro as she tries to wrap her head around the presented narrative the outsiders seemed to be providing, all whilst Bulgraff finely bites his way through the shoot.

"Mhmmm, that just doesn't make any sense, this has got to be another incident in the making. Outsiders don't just show up in flying buildings, they never have. They aren't yokai, so what gives? Someone is gonna get their plans shoved when the Shrine Maiden and her goons find out about this."

The dull noise of an approaching figure, causes the rabbits to tidy themselves up, trying to look as imposing as they could as a new individual wheels around the corner. Lead by the departed messenger, the newcomer is clad in what Bulgraff could only describe as some sort of juvie uniform from a Scholarium. The figures long pleated skirt and and a neatly maintained white dress shirt would not betray any sort of marking nor iconography. The new figure bore a pair of tall white ears, not unlike Tewi. However were as the smaller rabbit bore a messy mop of black hair, this new figure bore strains of long light purple hair, her face was impassive and stoic as she took in the sight of Bulgraff's struggling form.

Instantly, the pit of the Commissar's stomach started to churn, something wasn't quite right about this new arrival. This Reisen as she had been called seemed to exude an unsettling aura, as if she was toying with the very realm around the aging Commissar. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end, as he recomposes himself and spits out the chunk of bamboo he'd stolen, his voice firm and unimpressed.

"You brought another one of your long eared abhuman friends? Oh Throne is this the best you lot can muster? Can't you at least get someone with some spikes or knives? Thrones this ain't my first dance with being a prisoner."

Reisen only cock her head to the side, wordlessly indicated for the others to hoist the Commissar to his boots. As he is jostled and brought nearly face to face with the rabbit, he finishes scolding one of the smaller of their kin at his back for pushing against an old injury, just in time to wheel about and find himself staring down the barrel of some oversized mockery of a weapon. Now normally, Bulgraff would have guffawed and laughed aloud to spy the weapon leveled at him bore ears just like it's owner, but he opted to quiet himself as this must have been the strangest las-weapon he'd ever seen. Reisen speaks flatly, indicating to his hat, which was now atop the head of a nearby rabbit so self satisfied with their new head decor.

"You're the leader of the band of Outsiders, aren't you? Look, I get it, they handled you a bit rough and you've got some grit to you, I'll give you that human. In addition you've probably got fifty questions about how you got here and what you're doing here, and where even here is. What I can tell you, is that we have someone, just a building away, that can answer all those questions for you. Now the one hang up I have, is what your intentions are, and if I should even let you have the time of day with my Master. So answer me truthfully when I ask, what are you doing here, and why did you come looking for us among the bamboo shoots?"

Bulgraff clenches his jaw, shutting his mouth as he worked over her offer, the weapon to his head made her argument ever more compelling. However the way Reisen carried herself, and the manner in which she spoke to him, gave him a sense of deja vu. Countless times had he waded into situations with not a single clue as to what was unfolding and thusly been forced to puzzle through as best he could. That feeling of having stumbled into a situation far outside one's pay grade was something the Commissar could relate to on a deeply personal level, the fire-arm pointed at his head withstanding. Inwardly he knew full well that she was more than likely just as lost in this whole situation as he was, thus he swallowed his pride and spoke up, as plainly as he could.

"Aight, just lower your weapon lass. I'll be frank with you, I've not a clue in the Throne-damned world where I am or what this place is. Just as I told your minions here, we dropped out of the Immaterial, somehow directly above this world. It wasn't my choice nor was choosing even an option. I've got no bad blood between you and your abhuman friends here, nor any ill will to anyone in your bamboo forest here. Throne we didn't even know anyone was in here, till you all jumped us and gave us a bloody nose. So, if you know of someone that can give us some measure of insight into what is happening here, and maybe some way of getting home. I'd be obliged to tell ya what I know about who made it planetside."

Reisen stands motionless for a few long seconds as the Commissar works his jaw, the rabbit lass then lowers her estrange weapon, nodding in his direction.

"I don't have any reason to trust you, or if I am being totally honest, distrust you. Since you look like a man with some military bearing but I don't recognize any particular piece of your attire, so tell me then, from where did you come from in the Outside world if this all was just a happy accident?"

Bulgraff is given genuine pause, his weary face slouching slightly as he does finally have a moment to work over in his mind how they wound up in this mess to begin with. The Hive-Spires of his homeworld stood ablaze in his mind, the ruination of an entire system brought low for the savage sport of vile xeno, only provided Reisen with a long morose pause. When he spoke up, his voice was hoarse, tired and panged with tones of misery,

"To be frank lass, I ain't got a home no more. The place I come from is naught up ash and gnarled perma-steel. The place we came from is far out there… " He gestures upward, towards the roof of the store-room he was trapped within. "... Far up there, in space. Sounds like the ravings of a loon, I know. But trust me lass, there are countless billions of humans up there, all over the place in a state of constant war against the unimaginable. It was my job to see a bunch of these warriors back to a safe haven. Somehow, we wound up here, and Throne it's different from how our worlds work. It's all leafy and green and bereft of proper defenses. The world I called home, was set upon by barbaric and destructive beasts, Greenskins, they came and brought ruin to countless millions for the sheer thrill of the fight and nothing more."

Reisen, by this point had sent forth a runner for some unspoken meeting with this Master of hers, but her focus still rests be upon the grizzled Commissar and his story, her effort maintained not to make eye-contact with the older man. As he spoke, her hardline expression softens, ever so slightly, a look of sympathy written on her face as she draws up the words to reply, still not quite certain she could manage to believe such a fantastic and wild tale, but in some manner the same pain Bulgraff felt about abandoning his home, did strike some measure of cord with her deep down. She gestures to try and reassure him in some manner, as she softens her tone.

"O-Oh, that seems pretty intense for someone to just make up on the spot. I-I am not too sure I can really buy that though, I mean that does make you an alien doesn't it? Since you are not from earth and all? I mean it doesn't make any sense how you could be human, but still claim not to be from earth. You're definitely not from the moon, but, to be from someone else up there in space? …" She pauses and scratches her chin, catching the look of despair that flashed upon the Commissar's face, to which she'd head off with a shake of her head. "... Well! B-But that doesn't mean you are lying. It's just so far fetched and crazy to think over, I suppose I am having a hard time understanding it. But stranger things have happened in Gensokyo, so who really knows what can and cannot happen? That would also explain your strange weapons that fire danmaku as well, it's far more advanced than anything the natives have ever tried to build or with what anyone from the outside world has ever showed up with."

Bulgraff nods slowly as Reisen continues, indicating for him to follow after her, as the rabbits behind him move to cut him free from his restraints.

"How about this, I take you to my Master, as she is far wiser than I am. We try and get this whole mess sorted out and we try and talk it out over a cup of tea? I mean, from what I can glean, it doesn't really seem like you or your men came here with an expressed purpose to harm our home here in the Forest. I suppose we just want to make sure your telling the truth, and not patients in need of medical treatment that came wandering in the woods…. With a giant metal monster you rode in on."

Bulgraff gives a relieved sigh and nods his thanks to the tall rabbit, he bows his head graciously as the smaller rabbits manage to cut him loose, forcing him to rub at his wrists.

"Ah, that truthfully doesn't sound too bad, I reckon. On behalf of the Imperial Authority, I do apologize for any action that might have been seen as hostile or dangerous. It's just a chaotic time for all of us. But aye, please if you would, show me to your Master. I would very much like to try and get my bearings here so I can effectively organize a withdrawal from this world as swiftly as I can. The greenskins won't wait forever. Pray tell, do your people here have some sort of central authority that could be discussed with? Maybe a Lord or Governor?"

Reisen indicates for Bulgraff to follow as they make their way from the storehouse back into the crisp and cool evening air of the forest, a short jaunt away, stood an imposing classical structure of timber, an elegant manor of rustic and oriental design and theme. She turns back and speaks up to him with a but of a shrug, a strained chuckle on her lips as she leads them forth.

"Ah, central authority? I can't really say we have one of those. All I can tell you Mister, is that you are certainly two feet in the hole now with this place. Hopefully my Master Eirin will be able to give you the answers you seek. She has some insight into how this place works and the dynamics of it. But let me tell you, Gensokyo is really unlike any place that you've ever seen."

* * *

**Kept you waiting, huh?**

**First off, super sorry for the lack of updates over the last few weeks! Work got pretty crazy and suckered me into a bunch of overtime! Had to try and scrape together time to smack together a new chapter, so I hope that this at least tides us over till we get back in the groove! More Chapters of significant M E A T to be delivered soon frens! **

**In addition, I will admit that I did go back and edit the older chapters to cut down on the over-use of 'would' hopefully that does improve readability, but as it stands for folks that have read them, nothing content wise changed! **

**I return back to trying to do a sick backflip, gonna give it my all this time. Hopefully there won't be casualties in the process, peace!**


	11. Interlude Alpha - Part 3

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**[:: Inloading Data-Packet; Lord Commissar Bulgraff :: ]**

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Truly, Bulgraff in his time among the stars had seen what rural worlds had to offer, but the realm he now found himself within, was shaping up to be the strangest yet.

With their departure from the storehouse, the stark silver of the bright moonlight bore down upon the Commissar not unlike that of standing before the sun. Cast in radiant silver light, the clearing laid before the storehouse was abuzz with these slight moving rabbit abhuman figures.

Hither and yonder they raced, moving heavy casks and crates of material and food from several of the structures that surrounded the fairly considerable courtyard. The fairly plainly garbed abhumans hauled forth archaic tools and rusting parts to the newly arrived form of the ridge runner, of which now sat propped up on heavy blocks of dull grey.

Jutting out from beneath the nearest wheel well, was the unmistakable size and girth of Pikes rotund stomach as the squirmed and kicked out, working beneath the vehicle as several of the abhumans stood by with tools and parts at the ready. All the while within the ridge runners cabin, the freshly bandaged face of Droog would be rocking back and forth as once more the jury rigged vox speakers would blare an up tempo beat, with several of the abhumans bobbing along with him and his eclectic tastes in music.

Bulgraff passes on by the scene, casting a flatly unamused look of disbelief to Reisen, who merely responds with meek scratch upon her cheek.

"E-Eh, we didn't really see any point in keeping them locked up, they seem pretty clueless about the whole situation."

"Imagine my surprise."

The duo pass the busy clutch of abhumans, moving within the confines of the sizable bulk of the cloistered estate. The interior was no less bustling, though to a more tame and controlled measure. The few rabbits that moved about within the halls seemed to move with a careful reverence to the place and it's enigmatic masters, giving Bulgraff a wide berth as he followed along in Reisens path.

The lunar rabbit idly gestures aside as they pass by several store rooms, stacked tall and high with tightly wound and bound soft body crates, her voice breaking the uneering silence of the corridor as the two move past the ajar sliding paper doors of the manors corridors.

"To provide you some clue as to what sort of work goes on in this remote estate, my Master actually is an extremely talented healer. She acts as one of, if not the only, master of the medicinal field in the entirety of Gensokyo. There isn't a single ailment I dare say that she couldn't resolve. She is, however, currently with a patient. I'll remain with you till she finishes her meeting in one of our guest rooms."

Bulgraff keeps a neutral expression, taking stock of the vast supply in the half parted door, as they pass on their way to one of the side rooms. He clears his throat as they enter, his gaze watching Reisen warily, whilst being led to a small squat table. The room is fairly spartan and plain compared to the rest of the estate with thin almost paper like walls, with elegant yet simple stylized scenes of nature abound.

"Still doesn't answer my lingering questions lass, You ain't really given context to whom you are in context of your folks command chain or what your kind are for that matter. I mean Throne preserve us, what sort of anarchy stricken world doesn't have a planetary governor? Y'all also picked a hell of a name unpronounceable in Low Gothic."

Reisen offers over a seat upon the simple mat beneath the table opposite her, allowing Bulgraff to take a seat before she moves off to the sliding door once more. With a quiet nod, she would return to the table with a pair of simple wooden cups, each steaming softly as she offers the drink to the Commissar.

"I already told you, this place is called Gensokyo by the humans, the word isn't so complex. Though I find it strange you humans do not recognize Earth, this is your home is it not? As for what I am, I am a simple moo- Erm, earth rabbit in service to my Master, I have certain talents and abilities that allow me to influence humans to be more, amicable to our dealings in their village not too far from here. My kind, the inaba, have existed since life first moved in the wild places of this world, whilst your kind still wallowed in mud huts. Naturally our lives are far longer than that of mortal humans."

Bulgraff freezes, his hand hovering over the gently steaming cup as his gaze slowly locks onto Reisen with a frigid tinge,

"Your talking nonsense now lass, this ain't holy Terra nor can you delude yourself into thinking that it is. I am holding my tongue 'bout your kind, as you're clearly abhuman that have somehow evaded Imperial bio-cataloguing, but I ain't gonna sit here and be called a damn fool. So why not just spill the ration bag here and give me some real answers, about this place."

Reisen remains unbowed by the cold demeanor of the Commissar, would merely narrow her eyes, the room's gravity shifting as the enigmatic lunar rabbit seems to alter _something_ within the room, via some unnatural means, her tone plying and inquisitive as she retorts.

"I told you human, this is Earth, it has been Earth since long before you took your first step, and shall remain so long after you cease such steps. What about you, Commissar was it? You said your home was a distant world from here? What happened there that would drive you and your kind from their homes?"

Bulgraff feels a tremendous proverbial weight strike his shoulders, the flight from his homeworld frantic, the suffering of countless billions weighing upon his back. His gaze remained focused upon those crimson eyes of Reisen, feeling something uneasy stir within him. He scowls, fighting it down with little avail as he speaks up.

"I told ya lass, Ichorous was my home, massive place of towering ferrocrete and plasteel, the entire world was wrapped in vast cities and edifices to the God-Emperor of Mankind…" He pauses, vividly seeing within his mind's eye, the gilded hive-cities peaks and artificial mountains rising above the toxic clouds of his home. The vision would not last as flames leap up to consume the image, leaving him morose. "... And in an instant it was gone, caught in the warpath of a host of hostile aliens our kind called Greenskins, or Orks. This brought ruin to my world and forced us adrift in the stars fleeing the beasts."

Reisen would quirk her brow, nodding along as she seemed to wordlessly take in his statements, her inquiries level and even handed her a long draw from her steaming cup of tea.

"God-Emperor? I wasn't aware Mankind had declared it had a ruler that held court over all of Mankind. Did you proclaim him Emperor, or did he do so himself?"

Bulgraff keeps his grip on the cup, feeling the weight of the world about him shifting as he keeps his gaze locked on the nonchalant crimson eyes of the lunar rabbit. Something was amiss here, he felt his blood pressure rise, his hackles rising as he felt a swelling surge of irritation almost burst within him unbidden. She had to be doing something to him, he could feel it, some wicked witchcraft or sorcery of the unnatural kind, he fought back against his rising choleric outburst, keeping his own tone even and measured.

"Careful with your words lass, the immortal Emperor's gaze is far and timeless, even here among the muck and mire of this forsaken world, He still watches on. As an abhuman yourself, you would do well to mind your words, for he is far less than forgiving to those that slight His name. He is the eternal bastion upon which mankind has rested it's very soul upon for countless millennia. It is by His will that we make war and in His name we restore mankind to its rightful place among the stars."

Reisen would give no reaction to his words, the strange placid air about her starkly contrasting with the wildly shifting emotions of the Commissar as she gives an unimpressed look.

"The whole of humanity you say? Strange, I've not seen any of the humans in the village speak of this Emperor, in any capacity. You may be surprised to find that a great many gods and deities exist within Gensokyo, each of them very real and very physical things that work to enact their will upon the realm in their own ways. Your deity sounds like some sort of distant being that you place your faith within, having never seen the work of his hand nor his labors, how can you know that he has any real power? Let alone the ability to command worship from /all/ humans."

Bulgraff would feel his anger bleed from him in an instant, feeling the distance between him and the natural Imperial compatriots he would keep in his company. In this remote realm was there truly any hope for any of the faithful of the Throne? These thoughts rattled around in the Commissar's head as he placed his hand upon his face, feeling bolts of sweat beading at his brow.

"Your wrong abhuman, the stars beyond the confines of your tiny mote of earth and mud, are cruel and boundless in their malice to the fragility of the human soul. It is only by the Immortal Emperor's tireless work that we can even voyage into the stars through realms of hell, it is by His will that we are even given breath and life. Your heathen 'gods' here are but pale imitations of true divinity, and whilst I am capable of articulating this to you, there are others of my kind that are far less tolerant of such open disregard and would react with violence."

Reisen merely flashes a slight smile, indicating around her unconvinced, as she leans in on the table. Her form drawing ever closer with an unblinking gaze fixed with the Commissar, tall rabbit ears twitching from time to time.

"Come now Commissar, there is no need to grow testy. We are just enjoying one another's company and learning of each other and their respective homes. I simply questioned your claim about some all powerful deity. Of whom I've supposedly never heard of, that holds dominion over all of reality. But you say there are those among your number that are belligerent and dangerous, eh? Why don't you tell me about them, who are they so we can best avoid them or find suitable measures to…. Dissuade their violent habits."

The old commissar maintains a white knuckle grip on the wooden cup on his hand, his hand shaking slightly as he fights to clear his mind of countless emotions that threaten to well up and burst from him, the air about him seems so very wrong. He stared at Resien and knew full well that the abhuman was a witch of some kind. His mind raced with ways to try and regain control of his mental facilities from her unseen spell-works. He moves to turn his head away from her, aiming to cast his gaze back to the door. His view shifts as he realizes the door was no longer there, nor was the room, the four walls had fallen away into the inky black of space, countless stars hanging overhead, as the duo sat upon their mat seemingly drifting in open space as Resien plies him with ability to induce vivid images and hallucinations upon the unaware Commissar.

"What… sort of witchcraft is this? By the Throne, I swear lass you will release me from this trance, lest you truly start to test my patience. My soul is stalwart against the Ruinous Powers, my faith is proof against such foul trickery."

Bulgraff turns back to where Reisen was seated, only to find her absent, her voice ringing in as if she were all around him,

"I am not trying to harm you Commissar, such would be far too easy, you're only human after all. No, this is merely insurance in the event you were sent or dragged out of your own world by one of the aforementioned deities within Gensokyo. For whilst our realm does maintain a measure of balance and tranquility, do not deceive yourself. For beneath the placid facade, a maelstrom does brew as various powers engage in long standing rivalries and power struggles for control of the realm or it's inhabitants."

With a scowl Bulgraff rises from his seat and casts his gaze around, watching the flickering silver light of the stars dance about him, as the moon sits far overhead, beaming down upon his vulnerable and aged form.

"Damn it woman, I said I ain't no thrall of any pagan deity here within this realm. Our kind were traversing the Immaterial sea and were dragged down by these damn massive gateways full of eyes! As for the others that might be more prone to fighting, well you would have to take that up with them, now wouldn't ya? I got one job and that's to get my men and my charges /back/ to Imperial space."

Resien's voice is given pause for a moment, before it ebbs back, a curt tone now replacing the placid calm that had dominated her thus far.

"Hmmm, I am afraid Commissar, that your voyage home will have to wait as certain individuals within the realm have seen fit to bring you and your kind into ours, for their own gain. These 'pagan' deities, as you call them, have decided to use you and your men as pawns on their grand board, for their own ends. I choose to believe you in your sincerity that you and your kind stumbled into this world by accident, but I fear that leaving will be all but impossible now."

Bulgraff stares out into the shimmering void, jaw working visible as he mulled over the information. His face was stoic and unreadable, but internally he felt a creeping sense of dread, as this realm stood in defiance of all he knew. Were they truly being used as pawns on the board of some petty game by beings far beyond a mortal man's comprehension?

"You're not making a very compelling case to remain here if I am being honest. Drop this whole projection, if you wanna talk face to face. I won't say a damn thing more till I am back in the material world."

The image around him ripples and flexes, as the stars wink out one after another, the inky black of space rolled back as the room slowly fades back into sight. Sitting quietly, unmoved and unhurried is the placid form of Reisen, still sipping her tea as she watches the Commissar slowly snap out of the daze she had entranced him into.

However, most curiously, was the presence of another figure within the room with the pair. In contrast to the youthful air and restrained energy that Reisen emitted, the new arrival was a serene lake surface, reflecting forth calm and controlled composure. The new figure stands by, merely watching Bulgraff with an inscrutable gaze as she sized him up. Her stormy grey eyes watching over him as he blearily snaps back into reality, a slender finger tapping her bottom lip as she stares on. With an idle move, she'd brush a hand across a quarter patterned dress of alternating red and blue, and move alongside the dazed Commissar, speaking up with a warm tone.

"Ah, do pardon my apprentice, she is still learning how to best navigate the more complex intricacies of human interaction. Do enlighten me human, why are you so desperate to return back to your home? It sounds like a place fraught with war and turmoil, it's clear your being offered a chance here to find some reprieve, why go back?"

Bulgraff flinches as he hears the new arrival speak up, her presence entirely absent the entire time. How could she just appear there, out of the very air itself she had materialized it seemed! He turns his gaze upon the new speaker, jaw still working, as he tried to divide reality from fiction as the world slowly resolves back to it's normal self.

"Damnation! I am too old for the ol' appear from the shadows act! Feh, why do I want to get back? Well ain't it obvious? If we don't return to Imperial space, and our own realm, then the very souls of my men are at risk for predation… In addition, I am assumin' you are this abhumans Master that she's spoken of?"

The women would give a cordial short bow, a long braid of silver hair falling across her shoulder with the action as she gave the aging Commissar an inviting smile.

"But of course, I do beg your pardon. I am Eirin Yagokoro, chief pharmacist and medical practitioner for the vast majority of Gensokyo. You will have to excuse the introduction, as my apprentice explained, the realm itself is always prone to 'incidents' as the locals love to call them. Though, I will confess I don't think anyone has tried to cause as much of a stirr as you and your kind's arrival."

Bulgraff gives a humorless tight lipped smile and nods his head, gesturing for her to hold but a moment as he speaks up once more.

"Ah, so the Master makes herself known, damn well finally. Aye, so how about you humor me then? I am trying to get your crony here to give me some insight on how to leave this place, with my boys, so you can all get back to banging rocks together and trying to each one another."

Eirin idly leans back against the door, watching him coolly as she gives a firm shake of her head in response.

"No, as Reisen said, you won't be leaving this place until the person that brought you here, has completed whatever task it is they aimed to accomplish with you all here. As to what that might be? I cannot be certain, though I have my suspicion that it might have to do with the lack of humans that naturally filter into our realm over time. Some entities within the realm, have a tendency to consume humans, though regulation does exist around humans that live within the village. No such protections are offered to outsiders, you truly are a gambit few could have foreseen or accounted for in the grand scheme of things."

The Commissar grits his teeth, and exhales, grinding his teeth as he soaks in the information.

"So what you're saying is that someone decided to use us as a no strings attached means to push some sort of agenda and we just so happen to get caught in the crossfire? Alright then humor me, you wanna give me some sort of insight into who we might be able to speak with or locate that would give me a clue on what sort of plan awaits my men? Certainly as someone with underlings beneath you, you have to sympathize with my position here, I ain't gonna leave any of my boys and girls to be snacks for some back water monsters."

Eirin exchanges a glance with Reisen, nodding as they wordlessly speak with but the gesture, before her attention returns to the Commissar.

"Mhmm, there are a few individuals within Gensokyo that have a particular talent for seeking out answers and clues when these sorts of incidents crop up. I'd wager the shrine maidens of either Moriya or Hakurei would be your best chance, as both of the maidens have experience dealing with the various inhabitants of Gensokyo. There is also a mage that lives within the Forest of Magic, she might be a solid lead if all else fails."

Bulgraff stares blankly, raising a single finger to indicate his interjection as Eirin zeroes in and focuses on drawing up options to the problem before them, her muttering paused as he speaks up.

"Lass, that's all well and good, but I don't know the first thing about no damn Hakurei or what a Moriya is supposed to even be. You got like a map or something that I could follow? I mean, at this point I'd take you just pointing in a general direction. I'd get about the same effect as you rattling off names that mean nothing to me."

Eirin returns her gaze to Bulgraff and merely gives a warm smile, her hand moving down to clasp hold onto the doors edge as she responds with a mirthful tone.

"Of course! I know full well the names mean little, it was more for my own cohesion than anything. The shrines are in two very different places, the first Hakurei, is located on the eastern edge of Gensokyo, near the barrier. The shrine of Moriya, I do believe exists atop Yokai Mountain. Though that may prove quite a challenge to reach, as humans are far from welcome to the mountain itself. But as for a map, I shall provide you something far better! Instead I am going to give you a proper guide that can lead you where you need to be."

Bulgraff raises a hand placatingly, trying to convince Eirin otherwise, as he casts uneasy glances towards the passive and gently smiling form of Reisen to his left.

"Woah, easy I don't need any sort of aid. I ain't sure how I am supposed to explain the presence of an abhuman to my fellow members of the command staff…"

Eirin beams as she throws back the door suddenly, a small host of the rabbits had clambered together, eagerly eavesdropping on the conversation. With the opening of the door, the throng of abhumans would disperse in a frenzy in all directions as they try to avoid being volunteered for such a task. However it was clear that Eirin had a particular rabbit in mind, as she thrust her hand into the fleeing pack, hauling up the smaller white rabbit that had questioned him previously.

Tewi hangs there, dangling from Eirin's grasp by a handful of her dresses fabric, staring up with a faux innocent expression. Her hands are up as she tries to placate her Master.

"A-Ah! Sorry boss, look I didn't mean to get a crowd going, I just wanted to hear what you and the new guy were talking about, did you find out anything new about their big drill?"

Bulgraff returns his gaze back to the smiling face of Eirin, a deadpan expression of disbelief etched plainly upon his grizzled countenance, he inhales slowly.

"That's the little runt that was smacking me with those plant stalks not but twenty minutes ago. You said you were going to help me, I am fairly certain this counts as a hamstringing. I will earnestly take any errant stump that you might have laying around in the courtyard over this rabbit, I already have two stumps to deal with as my aids combined mental fortitude is tantamount to asking a tree for directions. I really don't need a third, I might die."

Eirin merely waves a dismissive hand, "No, No! Tewi is perfect for the job. She has managed to wander the breath of Gensokyo and is more than knowledgeable and sly of tongue when she wants to be. I would send Reisen with you, but unfortunately I fear more of your wounded compatriots will be wandering into the Bamboo Forest with each passing day, thus I need her for any sort of procedure I may be performing. Certainly as a favor to you outsider, I am willing to part with one of my associates here, as she can get you there post-haste, not to mention she is a good luck charm."

Bulgraff frowns curtly, giving Eirin a wary look as he nods his head along with her words. It's clear, she was offering to watch over the wounded men that came in, but at what cost?

"Alright, and what are you gonna do with my boys? I'll take your underling there, but I want to know what you get out of this? It's all fine and dandy but you are taking a loss here, treating the wounded, call me cynical, but I don't buy the altruism."

Eirin genuinely is given pause as she tilts her head, a earnest look written upon her face as she shakes her head in response.

"No Mr. Bulgraff, it may seem far fetched and a wild chance, but I am in the field of medicine to aid the sick and ailing. I promise I will not detain your wounded soldiers, I will treat them and send them forth to a place of your choosing with enough supplies to see them off. It may seem strange to you, but it simply is the right thing to do, I have no quarrel with you and your kin so long as you and your men respect the privacy and the autonomy of the House of Eientei. I will think of some payment at a later date once this initial chaos has cleared. Fair enough?"

Bulgraff gives Eirin a sideways look, watching her face for an iota of dishonesty, yet none would make itself known. He merely remains quiet for a few long minutes, before he nods his thanks.

"Mhmm, I am much obliged to you ma'am. I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are properly compensated for your work here, for my men and the Imperium at large."

Tewi is promptly released to her feet, whilst brushing off her dress, she casts her glance up towards Bulgraff and gives a confident smirk.

"So you wanna sneak back into Gensokyo huh? Hopefully that drill you have hidden is ready to go, otherwise going up Tengu Mountain or getting past the horde of Yokai on the way to Hakurei is gonna be a pain in the back."

Bulgraff merely stares down at the smaller rabbit with an unblinking expression, realizing that he not only got his map, but was going to be locked in the ridge runner with the missing devil in the humor hell that Droog and Pikes all too cheerfully provide him. He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales tiredly, giving one last look to the smiling faces of both Reisen and Eirin.

"Thanks, I already hate it."

* * *

**You know that trope when you see a character crawl into a cryosleep casket, and your like, yep nothing good is gonna happen here. And boom they wake up like a god awful amount of time late for something important?**

**Thats me, that's me right now. World went crazy in the meantime! Hopefully everyone out there is staying health and safe! Gonna keep chugging away here now that I got time!**

**Also not really sure yet if folks enjoy this chapters style, I tried to take account some of the critiques I had gotten to improve over the last month or so. So tell me if you like this style better than the other! **

**Probably gonna have to go back and touch up older chapters to improve readability, sometime here in the future. **

**But for now I return to cryosleep, new chapter inbound soon!**


	12. Writing Update!: New Act, New Look!

I live!

Alright, this is a departure from the usual course, but I felt that it needed to be said. Here is an update on the current state of the story, TLDR: I re-wrote the whole first act, a re-read would be wise as MUCH has changed.

**Long Story Short:**

What started as re-writes to improve readability of the earlier chapters, evolved into what eventually became a total re-write of the first 5 chapters with an additional 6th chapter added to it.

**What does this mean:**

Essentially, the entire first arc of the story went into the trash, and I salvaged about 10% of the text, it is entirely fresh content with new events and characters. Some characters that appeared along with entire events-lines were dropped or substituted with reworked variants of themselves, in favor of something I think is more cohesive structurally (Not saying its the BEST but I think its an improvement, at least)

**Why the re-writes happened:**

To be frank, I felt I needed to change up the events as some folks noticed that this earlier section was essentially a Warhammer short story that eventually ended up in Gensokyo.

But at the same time, I didn't want to turn this whole thing into a Touhou wank, nor a Warhammer one. I wanted to blend the two as best as I could and provide a unique story with an insane premise that was entertaining an entertaining read.

Though, I don't think the original story provided that. Foley was as dynamic as cardboard in the mind and his squad-mates lacked any real depth or characterization beyond their archetypes, not to mention the ABJECT lack of Touhou related content in the first act of a story about a crossover!

So, with that I re-wrote Foley's team, nothing was left unchanged and with a particular character addition, I hope that it at least will be able to give a unique perspective and angle to inspect the Imperium through, that isn't really able to be covered with a purely Imperial-focused unit.

**Your rambling, give me the final word here you goddamn writing hack.**

Alright, so basically I do want some feedback on this new re-write, as I want to really knock it out of the park. Continue to bombard me with reviews and corrections, so I can use that to fine-tune my writing to reach the goal of making a more entertaining story for you folks!

Also, if folks REALLY did like the older story more, I would be happy to toss it up on a side page for posterity. I didn't think highly of it, but I won't deny someone the right to read whatever it is that they enjoy.

That is all, I go back to drafting angry commissar man and his misadventures part 4. Stay tuned!

Also:

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ImplyingTouhouPowerLevelArguments . G I F

Here


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